Faces like Mine
by Dusk Evermore
Summary: After unmasking Erik, Christine sets off a chain of events no one could have foreseen..Let alone stopped. After being unmasked by her, Erik becomes utterly obsessed about her and is willing to do anything to make her love him as much as he loves her...No matter what it takes.
1. Chapter zero memento

**Chapter zero: Memento**

**N.B: Hello there! I am Dusk Evermore and this is my first fan fiction (and venture into sharing my writing online) so I am somewhat nervous. This is a fanfiction based on the phantom of the opera and draws inspiration from the book and the Google app game. I take no credit for the characters and the world they are based in. The title of the story is a song by the singer Emille Autumn and I also take no credit for that. I hope you enjoy the story and its chapters! Thank you very much in advance for reading this! =) Edit: in my excitement I forgot to put my chapter number and title in my text body, I am really sorry about that..Hopefully it should be corrected now =)**

_'"You are my everything,_  
_You are my light,_  
_You are my Angel,_  
_And now...You will be my...'"_

...

Her hand connected with his mask so quickly that he could not stop her. It happened so suddenly that he could not hide the surprise from his face, even as she recoiled in horror from him.

His damaged hand flew to his cheek and it was only when he did not feel the smooth surface of the mask but his own ugliness did he realise what had happened. She had betrayed him, she had exposed his hell.

Yet he smiled, noted how she flinched back even more as his lips curved. Unbidden, breathless laughter began to dance upon his twisted lips. He began to walk slowly towards her while he chuckled.

"Oh Christine," He began to whisper. "My dear, dear love. Are you satisfied to see me now? To see the face of this poor Erik?"

He halted when he was inches away from her and noticed how she trembled before him. His smile faded and in it's place a snarl danced upon his lips, in a hissed tone he continued to speak.

"Is my countenance unbecoming for the heavenly being you thought I was? Does it not match my voice? Am I not what you envisioned?"

He grasped her hands in a sudden movement, he barely heard her gasp as he began to shout.

"Am I not handsome, Christine!? Isn't this poor Erik everything you dreamed of under his mask!? Behold me, Christine! Behold the man who loves you! Behold the dead man who adores you!"

He forced her hands to touch his face, he ignored her sobbed out gasps as he traced every part of his countenance with her hands. He made sure she would feel The Ruin of his face in it's entirety, and he would show her no mercy. After all, she had unmasked him. She had forced him to do this, for in his minds eye he could see what she would see. A corpse's countenance, a death head. Ruined flesh and no nose, hair that would never grow again on the front of his head except in random tufts.

In her eyes he could see all that. Although he had done his utmost to conceal it the best he could, with his massive top hat and full faced opera mask and his shoulder length black hair, he had tried to give the impression that he was a normal man. He did not want to scare her, but she had wounded his very soul.. And he could not stop as he shouted at her while he forced her hands to rest upon his face.

"Can you feel that, Christine?! That is the face of your Angel! The face of Death! It is MY face, Christine! My hell! How does that make you feel?! Aren't you repulsed by me!? Aren't you horrified!? Do you wish you would die just to escape the agony of beholding me?! Tell me, tell me, TELL ME!"

As he roared at her, she was silent. More like a statue then a living woman, but when she did finally speak, her words surprised him.

"Erik..Your eyes.. Your eyes are scaring me.."

"What are you talking about?! Why are you talking about my eyes!? It is my face! My face! MY FACE!" He all but screamed at her in reply.

She began to sway and her eyes fluttered shut as she begged weakly. "Please..please don't look at me so.." before she swooned.

...

He was still in shock as he carefully carried her back to the guest room. He had not expected her to faint because of his eyes, his face yes, but not his eyes. They were after all, the only things untouched by The Ruin. As he carried her he concluded that she simply fainted because the sheer horror of touching his face and became confused as she lost consciousness.

He was never so scared in that moment, and felt relieved when he caught her before she hit the floor.

He placed her on the bed as though she was a piece of expensive art, he berated himself all the while. His hands shook as he gently tucked her in and brushed some of her sun kissed hair from her eyes. He gazed at her and resisted the urge to clasp her perfect hand in his, and watch over her until she awoke. Instead he turned and walked out the room and left her to her slumber.

...

He was lost in 'Don Juan Triumphant', his fingers glided across the pipe organs keys.

'How could a day go so terribly wrong?' He allowed himself the luxury of wondering about it for a few seconds before a voice within his mind childed him.

_'Poor Erik, you know why. You didn't mean to shout at her. But you did, poor pitiful Erik. Your Angel doesn't-'_

His thoughts faded away when he began to sob, his voice was full of anguish as he cried out.

"Why does everyone force me into a mask...? Why must my life only ever be full of suffering and loss?"

He placed his hand upon his face, and touched the damaged flesh. As he did so he heard a noise behind him and instinctively turned around to look at the source of the sound..

..Christine looked back at him.

**(Chapter end**)


	2. Chapter 1 Angel

**Faces like mine chapter one: Angel**

N**.b: oh my goodness, so many more people have read the previous chapter then what I thought! I even have a follower! Believe me when I say that I never expected this at all! Thank you very much for your attention =) So, I am sorry to ramble, but in this chapter you will see a specific set of phrases Erik thinks of, those are my invention and my take on his past. I would like to humbly apologise for those now =) other then that, I take no credit for the Phantom of the Opera or its characters! Thank you everyone for your continued support! Also, from here on in I am going to do my upmost to try an have a new chapter up per week. This is a one time occurrence of a rapid chapter update =)**

He had not expected to see Christine stood before him, let alone looking at him with her beautiful cerulean eyes. He was frozen for what seemed to him as an eternity, lost in her eyes. Then, like a dreamer that was forced awake, he remembered that he was not wearing his mask. That his ruined face was stained with tears.

'How must I look to her?' He wondered weakly, he was unable to break her gaze. He was lost in her eyes, he was drowning in them. But once she took a step forward the spell between them was broken with an almost audible snap, and before he could stop himself he began to shout at her. Shriek at her. The voice that was often melodious and angelic was distorted and turned into something more demonic as he screamed.

"Get out! Stop looking at me! GET OUT, GET OUT OR I'LL KILL YOU!"

He screamed all manner of threats at her, he threatened to make her suffer in unimaginable ways. He was screaming himself hourse in his atempt to stop her from looking at him.

Yet Christine did not turn away, she did not run from him or swoon like she did earlier. She simply stood there and wrung her hands as she seemed to debate about something, then she spoke. Her voice was gentle and it was filled with an emotion that he could not name, let alone understand.

"Erik," she said in a soft tone. "Please keep playing that song, it's about your life isn't it?"

He recoiled back and hissed. "What kind of trick is this?!"

Christine held out her hands in a soothing gesture and took a deep breath, never once did her eyes leave his. She spoke quietly but made certain her words were clear as she countered him with her own question.

" Erik, have you suffered like this on your own..All this time?"

His eyes went wide at her words and his voice was shaken.

"Are you planning to betray me, Christine?! Are you-"

She stepped forward and interrupted him before he could continue.

"Stop, Erik! I'm not going to do that! I woke up and I heard music, I didn't realise you were playing but it sounded so beautiful that I couldn't help it and-"

As she spoke he reached for his mask, all the while he shouted over her voice. "Liar! Liar! Liar!" He screamed over and over in anguish.

When his fingers brushed against his mask, her voice rose over his own and he all but jumped when she yelled at him.

"I'm not afraid of your face, Erik!" She took a deep breath and smiled at him as she continued. "I'm not afraid, so please..Please don't put on your mask around me."

He was shocked into silence, his body had began to tremble and his mouth moved wordlessly. She sized his silence and continued to talk, as she spoke she moved closer and closed the gap between them little by little.

"You aren't an angel, but you aren't a monster ether." She stopped only inches away from him, she was close enough to see his Ruin in all it's glory. Yet she did not flinch or look away from him. "You're human, like me and everyone else."

He stared at her as though she had grown two heads, he was utterly speechless. He wanted so badly to believe her, so badly to be comforted by her words. But his heart was not inclined to simply trust, and his minds eye still recalled her horrified expression. He shook his head, the rage was gone. Now only sorrow remained in his voice as he rasped.

"You are lying...How can you look upon this ugly corpse and say that?"

"You arent a corpse ether." She answered him in a gentle tone. "You are who you are and that is a man, a man called Erik."

He fell to his knees before her once she finished talking, he sobbed softly. "You look at this pitiful Erik and see a man? You would look at a...A face like mine... Without fear and disgust? Christine, even my mother and father didn't...Didn't..." He continued to cry, unable to say anymore. He had not meant to mention anything about the Beginning of the Ruin, but he was blindsided by her. He kept his head lowered as he cried until his breath hitched and hicupped.

When he looked back up at her it was in worship, devotion. His smile was that of a man who had witnessed the Divine, and maybe in that moment he had. His voice was lowered as though he was in prayer.

"Oh my Christine. You are the true angel, you have being sent down to save poor Erik from hell. You will take me to salvation, to heaven!" He lowered his head back down, as all but bowed upon the floor. Prone in subjection, as though humbled and cowed all in one. He continued to whisper. "Please save me, my Christine. Please save me from suffering, my angel."

His whispered died down as he kissed her feet in worship, and in doing so he had utterly missed..The look of dread upon her face.

...

The days that passed afterwards were blissful for him. He often took Christine around the safer parts of his home and regailed her with stories about various things that caught her eye. Although many of the tales he was used to speaking of were about pain and suffering, he would fabricate more humorous and lighthearted things about them. He wanted to see his angel laugh, he wanted to hear her joy even if he thought himself unworthy of it. Yet never once did he so much as see her smile while she was with him. He was not a blind man, he knew her mind was more often then not elsewhere.

But he hoped her heart would be with him.

He had tried so many different activities to make her feel at ease, he tried to be understanding. He made certain that he was a perfect gentleman, or at least he tried to remember the now rusty etiquette of his youth. Yet still she seemed cautious of him, as though he were a stranger that had abducted her for sordid reasons. He wanted nothing more then to prove that her fears were unfounded.

He wanted to show her that she had nothing to fear from him, that in his eyes even to kiss her perfect lips would be an act of depravity.

He wanted to tell her that he watched over her while she slumbered because he could not bear the thought of anything happening to her in her sleep, he grew evermore fearful that she would have nightmares of his face and her pure heart would cease to beat out of terror.

He wanted to tell her about how worried he was when she sometimes collapsed, how his heart had often leaped into his throat and it took all his effort to stop himself from panicking before her. If he were truthful, he would admit to sometimes mulling over tying her to the bed so she would never fall onto the hard floor of his home. But then he would have memories of the Beginning of The Ruin invade his thoughts, and he decided against the idea. Or rather, he had pushed the thoughts into the darker corner of his mind. In case should drastic measures would ever be called upon at a later date. The thought of her injured was to much for him to bare.

But most of all he wanted to tell her how much he loved her. How much he adored her and that she did something that no one else was ever able to do since The Ruin.. She made him happy. He never wanted that happiness to end, and if that meant that he would need to grasp it in a grip of iron, he would not hesitate. She and she alone had the power to make him feel that way, and he wanted nothing more then to tell her.

But as the last fifteen days seemed to pass within a blink of an eye, there was never any time to tell her. He was so devoted to seeing to her wishes. that he neglected his own. So on the fifteenth day he decided to tell her everything he felt, he planned to take her further then ever before in the boat and confess all.

But that changed when he walked into her room and saw her.

She looked ill, she was so very pale and he was worried more then ever. He had tried to hide it with a smile as he inquired as causally as he could.

"Would you like to go again on the boat, Christine? We can go even farther this time. We can even go pass the pillar we saw last time!"

At first she did not answer him, so he gently whispered her name in the hope of coaxing a reply from her. But she jumped as though he had shouted at her. And that hurt him. She began to speak of feeling unwell, but when he offered to help her to her bed she seemed to shudder.

"But you seem unwell, Christine." He entreated her in his most gentle tone, yet for some reason she seemed almost scared as she stammered.

"Oh Erick, I-I'm just missing everyone. My friends must be worried, and Mama most be so worried..."

She trailed into nervous silence at the sight of his expression, he did not realise that his lips were bared in a snarl until he spoke. His words were a harsh whisper, his words were full of anger. His words were full of hurt.

"You would dare to flaunt your family before me? You would be so careless as to forget who you speak to?!"

He hated how she looked at him in that moment, he hated that she looked at him as though he had said something vile. He could not help his anger, but he had tried to speak with care. Yet she looked at him as though he had just announced that he was going to burn them alive. He began to wonder if he was harsh with his tone, and he could not bare to see her look of fear. He began to open his mouth to apologise to her, and resolved to tell her more about The Beginning of the Ruin when he had gathered enough courage to do so, but she broke the silence before he had the chance.

"Oh, Erik...I-I don't feel well, I need to see a doctor, I think..T-that the darknes and the cold air here is not good for my health. " she sounded so meek that he almost could not hear the lie, but still he heard it. His eyes narrowed as he regarded her. Any thought of an apology was now cast aside, he could not and would not stand for her lying to him.

"Christine, I have lived down here for years and there is nothing wrong with me," His eyes almost blazed with rage. "You should be making more of an effort for MY sake!"

All of a sudden, the rage had vanished in his eyes and his lips had begun to contort in a disturbed semblance of amusement. His tone had suddenly become almost playful.

"But it would not do if a disease ripped you away from me, so I will grant this request. This poor Erik would hate to see his angel suffer after all. Now, Christine, close your eyes and take my hand. Do not dare open them, not even for a second."

She closed her eyes and nodded her head at him, obediently she offered her hand to him. He smiled and with a surprising amount of tenderness took her hand into his, he watched her face as her eyelids fluttered at the sensation of his grasp. A bitter smile briefly traveled across his lips, and for a brief moment he heard laughter inside his head. A familiar, mocking laughter.

_'Poor Erik, poor Erik. She cannot even stand the feeling of your hand! How could she ever love you? How could she even bring herself to simply stomach your presence? You KNOW She's lying to you, and yet your playing her game like a good little monster-'_

'Shut up!' He mentally shouted at the voice. Outwardly there was no change in his countenance, but mentally he seethed as he addressed the voice. 'You will stay silent! It may be a game she has devised, but my dear Christine will soon learn.. If she wants to play a game, I am the one who will make the rules!'

He blocked out any other thoughts and grasped her hand that tightly that she whimpered, yet still she did not open her eyes. With an unreadable smile he began to walk, and pulled her into the darkness.

(Chapter End)


	3. Chapter 2 Darkness

Faces like Mine, Chapter two (Darkness)

**NB: Hello again! I am utterly shocked (In a wonderful way) that I not only have two extra followers and even more views, but also two favourites and my first ever reviewer! Thank you Phantomfan01 for your reviews and I am very happy that you like the story so far and I really hope you will enjoy the chapters that are to come! Thank you to the people who have favourited and (or) followed my story, and of course a big thank you to everyone who takes the time out of their day to read my fanfiction! I had never expected my fanfiction to be this popular, so thank you very much for your continued support! It really does mean a lot to me and I am very grateful! =) And now that have bombarded you all with thank yous, I can happily say that I had a little bit more time then I expected this week so I have being able to get this chapter out a little sooner then I expected. I hope you all like it =) Edit: goodness, I have the brain of a guppy fish.. I forgot to mention that the next few chapters from this one onwards are going to have a darker tone, since my version of Erik really loathes a certain Viscount who will start to make an appearance. Also, Erik will again mention things about his past that are more or less my indulgence, but the reasons why shall be revealed.. At some point =) In terms of the dark direction of the plot..Well, I really do not want to give any spoilers so I apologise in advance for the darkness =) **

He listened to the sound of her breath as she had drawn panicked gulps of air.

He listened to her hesitant footsteps and the rustle of her gown as she tried to match his pace.

He felt her perfect doll like hand grasp his tightly, like a child that sought reassurance after a long nightmare.

He knew her eyes were shut tight and that she had obeyed him perfectly as he lead her through the dark.

He smiled in triumph, because in that moment, he knew she was destined to be his.

...

He lead her back to the mirror dressing room and turned to face her. He regarded her in silence as his mind drank her image before him. From her waist length sun kissed hair that made him conjure images of flowing honey, all the way to her delicate doll like feet that could have easily walked within a fairytale, she was beyond beautiful. She was truly beautiful, with her perfect snow white skin that flushed in a delicate yet most becoming way when she was embarrassed, and her graceful figure that seemed so perfect that even if she wore rags it would never diminish the almost regal shape of her.

But what he loved most were her eyes, her voice and her smile.

Her voice entrapped him from the very first time he had heard it, ensnared him as though he were a sailor at the lure of a siren. Never had he heard such a pure voice, a voice that so freely sung about all the singer's hopes and dreams without any false pretence. He was not surprised that his cheeks were stained with tears when she had finished her song in her dressing room for the first time. In that moment he knew, that there was nothing that he would not do in order to ensure that the Opera house would recognise her talents. There was no one he would not dispose of in order to ensure that she would always shine like the jewel she was.

Although her voice bewitched him, it was her eyes that captured him. Ever since that day that she looked upon his face without fear, looked passed the monster's visage and saw the man underneath it, he knew that this was the woman he would give his heart wholly to. He would rip his heart out of his chest if that was what she wished. He would even cast himself into fire if that was her will. All she needed to do was look at him, look at him with those unfathomable ocean touched eyes, with all their kindness and innocence, and Express her will. He also hoped that those eyes, those forgiving eyes, would look upon him with love.

The same way he wished that she would smile at him, maybe even laugh at some of his jests. At present her smiles around him were fleeting, quivering and almost ghost like. Yet still he clutched at those whispy smiles the way a dying man grasps at life, or the way a starving man grasps at crumbs. Even though her smiles were like smoke that slowly seeped through his desperate fingers, he lived for them. But he had also begun to pray, for the first time in many years, that she would grace him with a different smile. A smile full of love, a warm smile that he had often seen when he watched her freely give it to others, but never in his presence. Never to him, and instead someone far more unworthy, someone far more primal and base then he.

'_A failed libertine_.' He thought with a slight shudder of rage. '_A faux Don Juan with a perfect fac_-'

Her voice broke his thoughts like bird song, hesitant and shy all at once. Her voice soothed him as she whispered.

"Erik? Can I open my eyes now?"

He blinked and composed himself quickly as he responded almost grandly. "You may, Christine."

'_My Christine, My Angel, Mine and only mine_!'

...

He watched her from the corner of his eye as he unlocked the door that led to her actual dressing room, he noticed how she bit her lips and paced around. He wondered if she were regretting her decision of whatever game she wanted to play, but he hoped in his heart that her actions were born out of already missing him and his home. With a flourish befitting a showman, a movement he had often seen and practiced secretly during Mother and Father's punishment at the Beginning of the Ruin, he unlocked the door and stepped back. His mind made up in an instant.

"A moment, if you will, Christine." He called to her gently, he took great pains to give her the illusion of choice.

As she stepped towards him with a fawn's caution, he slowly removed the ring from his pocket. The ring in it's day was one of the most expensive yet tasteful of it's kind he watched the candle light glint off it and remembered how it looked upon his Mother's finger. Before the Ruin she had allowed him to hold it and would sternly inform him that that ring would sit upon the finger of his own wife one day, that the ring was as much of his birthright as the family name. That ring, that adorned the finger of not only his mother, but his grand mother and all those before her, would only be placed upon the woman worthy enough to be his wife.

Unbidden he smiled as he remembered the story of the ring, it was one of the few times his father actually spoke to him as a man instead of his apprentice. It was also the only story that did not have a moral, nor end in a sound beating.

He pushed away the story and the memories as he spoke to Christine, his voice full of reverence. "Beautiful, is it not? It was my Mother's and it granted her the adoration of my Father and admittance into a proud bloodline, but it also cursed her with me. Her ugly son." He paused while he gathered his thoughts and muttered almost to himself. "The family disgrace."

He raised his eyes to Christine and wondered if he saw a hint of curiously in her eyes, he resolved that one day he would tell her everything. But not today, and when her eyes began to cloud with pity he continued to speak. To reassure her.

"This ring is my most prized possession, it brings me joy. So, in order to help with your absence..I would like nothing more for you to wear it, and in doing so this poor Erik will be soothed by how it glints-"

"Oh Erik, I couldn't possibly.." She began, but he talked over her.

"-On your left hand." He finished his sentence as he carefully placed the ring into her hand, when she hesitated he narrowed his eyes and commanded her in a voice that was a sharp as a knife. "Place my ring on your left hand, Christine. I am growing impatient."

When she slipped the ring upon her finger she gulped. "What if it slips off of my hand, Erik?"

He rewarded her with a warm smile. "Then you must be careful with it, after all, as long as you wear the ring this poor Erik will be able to devote himself utterly to you. You will be the safest person in the Opera house, my love, and through the ring I will be able to see your thoughts." His smile hardened slightly. "I will also be able to see your intentions if my ring should be absent from your finger. Regardless, my love..All you must worry about is keeping that ring on your finger, and little else. And also, my pure Angel," His voice lowered slightly as though he were sharing an intimate secret. "I will always be watching you, listening to you, ready to execute your will. My ring, my mother's precious ring, will also protect you from those beasts who would dare to sully you."

He closed the slight gap between them, so he was now close enough to take her into his arms. His voice was almost silky as he continued. "I would hate for you to give yourself to a beastly man, a man consumed with filthy base desires. Therefore, should such a man make himself known...I will do what I must, and crush him utterly beyond repair, beyond recognition."

His smile was now disturbingly tranquil in contrast to Christine's visible tremors, she forced herself to speak yet her words still surprised him. "Please don't worry, Erik. I'll come back often, so you won't have to fear for me."

"Oh? Well, in that case..I cannot stand the worry, Christine. So I would like you to return to me in two days." His tone was almost indulgent, as though an absence of two days was an act of altruism on his part.

"W-what happens if I can't return to you in two days?" She asked with fearful eyes, she clearly dreaded the answer.

His smile was warm, but his voice dripped with venom as he chuckled. "My love, my fair and noble love...That is not for you to know, unless you wish to break your promise and find out?"

"N-N-No! I promise I'll return in two days!"

He nodded then, more to himself then at her words. "I am very glad to hear that, Christine. I will take you back now. You know, I really have enjoyed our time together."

He lead her carefully through the dark passage and into her dressing room. He stepped back onto the threshold of darkness, the path to his home and regarded her with a smile. As he began to shut the door, and leave her in her lighted room he all but sung.

"I am looking forward to next time, may it be even more delightful~!"

The door shut with a click, the click echoed in his head. The sound of a game starting.

...

He held her letter in his hand while he paced, his ground his teeth together in rage. He saw red as his mind flashed words of the letter. He knew in that moment what he needed to do, but felt like doing so much more. This was no longer a game, it was a direct challenge to his love!

'I_ will destroy him! That wretched faux libertine, he would still stand in my way!? Why does my angel call to him!?'_ His thoughts raced after one another like starving rats, sorrow as well as anger threatened to engulf him. He placed the letter back where Christine had left it and then he retreated back behind the mirror and stood on the edge of the darkness as he gathered his thoughts.

He was actually going to give Christine some privacy once she had entered her dressing room but something in her behaviour made him pause, he had heard the sound of her writing quickly and heard her murmer to herself about 'finding someone to deliver this letter.' He waited for what seemed like an eternity for her to leave the room before he entered the dressing room and began his search. When he found the letter he seized upon it like a starving wolf, and what did he find? An invitation to the up and coming ball with the loathsome Other man.

He felt heartbroken as well as enraged. He placed his hands over his ears and clenched his eyes shut as the voice whispered mockingly in his thoughts.

'_Poor Erik, pitiful Erik. You are going to lose her, you have lost her. First she'll go to the ball, then she'll go into his arms..And then..'_ the voice lowered its tone seductively._ 'His bed.'_

He blanched at the thought and then let out a rasped laugh as he lowered his hands and opened his eyes. "I will not let that happen, I cannot. After all.." His lips curved into a grotesque smirk. "..She will be meeting the Viscount at a MASQUERADE ball, I can think of no better place... To formally introduce myself."

He straitened himself to his full height while he chuckled. "Yes, it will be a delightful event and a fitting back drop to show my Angel and the faux Don Juan that I am the real Don Juan. I will always be triumphant.. And I.."

He stepped into the darkness and merged with it, his whispered words lingered behind him like a prophesy.

"...I will ensure that those who betray me are suitably punished."

(Chapter End)


	4. Chapter 3 Betrayal

Faces like mine chapter three (Betrayal)

**NB: Thank you for your continued support, follows, views and favourites everyone, It really means a lot! And thank you Phantomfan01 and Evolution-500 for your reviews, I greatly appreciate them! Now, I have the feeling that I talk to much so I am going to try and cut down on my NBs because I am certain that no one wishes to hear me ramble on..So.. I will stop talking now =) I hope you all enjoy this next chapter**!

...

"Ah...What a fine night for a masquerade, do you not think so? I wonder if you think you can hide from me in a sea of false faces and painted personalities? There is a sense of magic in masks, at least for those who only wear them for amusement. Ah Christine, I am glad that for you..The mask is a choice. Yet for a face...Such a face like poor Erik's..Poor Erik. The mask is my face. Ah, what a wonderful time to wear a mask. What a wonderful time...My angel, my dear angel.. Why would you invite the faux Don Juan to a masquerade if not for any reason other then to have us meet?"

He muttered quietly to himself as he paced like a caged animal. In his mind he counted down every hour and every second as he waited for the Masquerade ball to commence, for his long awaited meeting with the 'Faux Don Juan.'

"That accursed Viscount " He hissed in a tone that dripped with hatred.

For the whole day he had wandered with an uncharacteristic amount of restless in his home, unable to occupy himself in anyway regardless of what he tried. Not even his preparation for the surprise that awaited his beloved Christine could hold his attention. That made him in turn, even more agitated. In his agitation his mind had flashed unwanted images that fueled both his rage and jealousy equally.

_Christine, HIS angel, in the arms of the Viscount. Christine tenderly taking off her party mask and the Viscount's, her fingers brushing his perfect face. Their lips meeting each other, their embrace deepening. The Viscount all but carrying Christine to an amorous location and then.._

"Poor Erik would be forgotten, unloved, forsaken! My angel would be ripped away from me!" He would all but scream. No matter how many times his mind coyly threw those images at him, he could not restrain himself when he pictured the events. He could not reason or banish them, he could not conjure a scenario where Christine runs back into his arms instead of the Viscount's. All he could do was seeth as his minds eye watched his angel be seduced by another man, a base and crude pig.

A pig can claim to be of good stock, but at the end of the day it is still a pig. He would kill the Viscount in the same way a butcher would slaughter a pig, and then he would make Christine see..

...That she belonged to the man who's ring nestled upon her finger. And she..Would feel nothing but love for him.

..

It was near the time now, the start of the ball. He glided down the halls of the opera house unnoticed by all, he kept to the shadows and he knew their routines by heart so there was no chance of unwanted attention. This was even more so since he removed Buquet from the mortal coil, now there was no one within the opera house who posed a threat to him and his home. Now he needed to deal with the only external threat to his happiness, and he would enjoy it immensely.

After a few more twists and turns he had arrived at his ideal vantage point, from here he would be able to watch Christine with ease. He noticed her instantly even though the great hall was crowded with masked nobles. His Christine shone with a heavenly aura that not even her mask could hide. He longed to approach her and speak to her, to dance with her, to feel her gentle hand in his as he waltzed with her. Not as the phantom or her servant, but simply as Erik. Just Erik. But such thoughts were foolish and boarded upon sacrilege to him, after all she was an angel. He was nothing, he was only fit to worship her and love her from afar as did Romeo with Juliet.

He smiled to himself at the thought, it had being an eternity since a woman had seen him as a Romeo. It had being an aeon since he had waltzed with anyone. His smile had faded as he thought of this, and he was surprised when he realised that his face was stained with tears. He reached up and touched his mask, the hated mask, and was in that moment grateful that it could not only hide his sin..But also his shame. His folly, His Ruin.

He began to turn away from the grand hall, when he heard Christine's soothing voice. "I think I recognise the person behind that mask."

His heart swelled as he quickly spun around, he had expected to see Christine standing before him just like she did when he wept before. His virtuous and kind angel, his Christine. However he did not see her standing in front of him, she had not moved from her place. However there was one change. A man stood next to her and even masked it could only be one person, the Viscount.

Everything had flashed red when he beheld the Viscount talking to his angel, and it felt as though his blood was boiling. As he made his way towards them one thought resounded within his mind.

'I will kill that pig!'

..

He grinned like a wolf under his mask as he chased them. Were it not for Christine noticing his approach, the Viscount would already be dead. He blamed the pompous party attendees who swarmed around him like flies and buzzed about his 'aura'. They even had the audacity to insult his clothes and when they tried to touch him, he could not help at snapping at them to get away from him.

Of course his beloved recognized his voice, and she had trembled when she grabbed the Viscounts's hand and began to run away. To her dressing room of all things! His rage was strangely diminished by her actions, which is why he decided that he would not enter the dressing room. He would see where things would lead first, he would listen intently to his Angel's words and then render his judgement.

He listened intently and heard Christine's voice tremble as she spoke to the Viscount, he narrowed his eyes slightly as he heard the Viscount's prying questions. He placed his hand on the door handle and readied his lasso, whatever Christine told him would be the last thing the Viscount would ever hear. But then, clear as a bell, he heard his Angel's voice rebuff the Viscount and his questions. He had not expected that in the slightest, in fact he had expected his poor Angel to break down and tell the meddler everything. Yet she had not betrayed him, his beloved Christine had kept her silence. To him, it did not matter what her reasons for silence were, what mattered was that Christine never betrayed their love to the faux Don Juan. She told the Viscount nothing about the time they spent together, about the love they felt for each other or even about his face.

Yet still the Viscount would press the issue, nor would he rest. He would still try to unravel everything, and he would never stop until he drew his dying breath. That last breath would be the most miserable one the Viscount would ever expel, he would make sure of that. But tonight and only for tonight Christine had unknowingly saved the Viscount's life.

As he stalked away, he chuckled to himself. "It is true, the most ignorant are also the bravest."

..

He stood on the other side of the mirror and listened to the sound of Christine's voice on the other side as she mumbled to herself. Even in fear, her voice was beautiful. He had heard fear distort voices and warp them, even his own voice was not immune to the powerful fiend called fear..Yet his Angel's voice still remained perfect, which made him hope that his theory was correct.

Her actions were not motivated by protecting the Viscount, they were motivated by Christine's love to himself. Why else, he had theorized, would she go to such extreme measures to stop the two of them from meeting? Yet still he could not be totally reassured, his heart may have sung to him about her pure motives, but his soul was stained with so many past betrayals and ulterior intentions. His mind was the rational mediator between the two, but all to frequently it was getting drown out in the war that raged within him since the masquerade ball two days previously.

Now he waited, on the other side of the looking glass to see if his Alice would willingly enter wonderland or be guided down by her white rabbit. His mouth twitched in ether a smile or a grimace at the analogy, although he loathed most fiction now, Alice in wonderland was one of the books he still loved. Before the Ruin. He loved all fiction before the Ruin, and he had even believed in fairytales with an unbecoming naivety unfitting for a young man of his calibre. But fairytales cannot withstand fire and innocence is broken upon the rack of cruelty wielded both strangers and loved ones alike.

He never wanted his beloved Christine to experience that, but he had the feeling that sooner or later she would push upon him the role whether he wished it or not. He just hoped that he was wrong.

He was about to open the door on his side of the glass when he heard a sound he had not hoped to hear, the sound of the Viscount outside of the dressing room. Erik focused on Christine's voice and knew she was unaware of the Viscount.

"Erik..Why do you..?" She began and then hesitated. He heard her approach the mirror and when she next spoke, her voice was close. "I came here to see you Erik, see? I'll hold your hand..So please don't drag me into the dark like last time.."

He regretted that he could not grant her wish, and he realised as he stepped out with the 'fragrance' at the ready, he would never grant it.

"Fate links me to the forever in a day." He whispered as he subdued her.

She succumbed without struggle or sound, and wilted like a delicate flower as the drug took a hold of her. He had lowered Christine to the ground with the utter most care and quickly placed the mirror of the entrance to his home, he could hear the Viscount frantically shouting on the other side of the dressing room door.

'Do rush in, you faux Don Juan.' He thought to himself as he stepped into the shadows just as the Viscount burst through the dressing room door.

As expected, the Viscount caught sight of Christine's unconscious form and began to rush towards her. As anticipated, the Viscount was blind to anything else in the room. He charged at the Viscount with the very same 'fragrance' he had used to subdue Christine with. The Viscount put up a struggle but began to fade in and out of consciousness. When the Viscount's legs gave away and he crumbled to the floor with dim eyes, he smiled under his mask. As he gazed down at the Viscount's perfect face he decided to leave the dullard with a warning, he bent down and whispered in the Viscounts ear.

"Be glad you draw breath, be thankful that I have not killed you. In fact..Your every breath tonight is a gift from my Angel...And remember these words Viscount...'Fate links thee to me.'"

Erik walked back to Christine, content that the Viscount had heard him.

..

Erik carefully carried Christine home, to their home, and smiled to himself all the while. He would work out how to deal with the Viscount when the right opportunity presented itself to him, and then he would be free to attend to his Christine.

"Forever and a day!" He sung quietly and had only ceased to smile when he heard that loathsome voice once again.

'_Poor Erik, poor pathetic Erik.. Do you really think you can compare to Romeo now? With that face? Oh Erik, you know, your Juliet will never die with you. Your Juliet isn't even real! She only warmed up to you because of your voice, but what if you never even had that? What if-'_

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He whispered to his unseen tormentor. "Please, I don't want to remember..."

The voice had simply laughed in scorn. '_Are you saying you could forget the past, poor Erik? If that's the case show me by taking a good look in the mirror without screaming, without breaking. Poor Erik, you can never lie to me.'_

"I do not need you. I have Christine." He all but shook as he spoke, it took all his strength to hold Christine steady as he placed her into the boat.

_'You have a captive canary!'_ The voice jeered. _'The only thing you have for a brief while is her voice..and your music..'_

The voice fell silent and Erik stared at Christine's perfect face, and even though she was unconscious, he heard her sing.

He heard music.

(Chapter end)


	5. Chapter 4 Music

Faces like mine chapter four (Music)

**Nb: Hello again everyone! Thank you all for your continued interest and support! =) This next chapter is a little bit slower paced then the others (at least I think it is) but I hope you all like it! Thank you all again for your likes, favourites follows and reviews! =) Edit: I have changed a sentence where I slipped into a present tense and I have changed an error I found, I am really sorry about the inconvenience everyone =) **

He had sat dutifully at Christine's side as he waited for the drug to wear off. If he strained his hearing he could still hear the faint echoes of the music he had heard when he gazed upon her unconscious face. The music helped to drown out the voice, that hateful yet familiar voice that continued to taunt him and fill his mind with doubts. He was grateful when Christine began to show signs of awakening.

When Christine had finally awoken from the slumber that he had forced upon her with the 'fragrance' the first words she had groggily uttered were laced with confusion.

"Why..? I came back willingly, Erik..You didn't need to use that horrible fragrance, I was going to visit you anyway.. So why did you...?" She asked him, she had no need to finish her question.

He gazed at her and decided not to tell her about the meddling Viscount, she did not need the stress. Yet at the same time he had found himself wondering if he would have used the 'fragrance' regardless of the Viscount, he was not sure. He wanted to believe that the Viscount had forced his hand, but when it came to Christine, he was willing to do anything to keep her by his side.

"I..I.." He began quietly. "I did what I thought was best.." He trailed off as he thought.

_'Because I cannot trust my own heart.' _

She had began to get up when he spoke, But something in his voice had made her pause. Her face was full of worry as she gently pressed him. "But why, Erik?"

How could he explain to her, how could he bare his soul to her? He could not, not right at that moment. Once again he wavered between telling her all, or telling her nothing. But still she deserved some kind of answer, even if it was only the briefest of explanations. His eyes had became distant as though he was looking into a far away horizon.

"In my life," he began in a cautious tone. "After a certain point, I learned very quickly that trust was something that I should have being more grateful for. Trust, family, friendship and love were things that were stripped away from me one by one until I became to cautious to feel them. They became forbidden delights that I would never be granted, because of my face. Even my Faith turned it's back on me in the end, salvation became scorn and hate. My face, Christine, did this to me." He paused as he noticed her expression of disbelief. "Ah, my beloved." He continued bitterly. "I can see that you do not believe me, you who have lived a perfect life with your perfect face, could never understand my Ruin, my Hell, and my pain."

_'My life_.' His thoughts whispered

He fixed his gaze upon her with a sudden intensity. His words were carefully chosen but had a monotone edge to them that was not there before. "Tell me, do tell me..Have you ever had your heart shattered, my beloved? Has someone ever broken you so completely that you wished to die, no matter how agonising the pain would be? Has someone ever wounded your body without slicing it? Snapped your bones without breaking them? Have they ever-" He had stopped himself at the last moment, he would not tell her of the shame he had endured. He would never tell her, he could never tell her. To tell his Angel of The Ruin was one thing, but he did not need to tell her of everything that occurred during it. He hoped that she did not notice how he gulped or hear the weakness in his voice as he finished his sentence. "-Have you, my love, known such pain?"

Christine looked at him in silence, she chewed her lip slightly and her hands trembled slightly. "Erik.. May I tell you my story?"

He was intrigued, his Angel never ceased to surprise him in the most unexpected of ways. He tilted his head in curiosity.

"You may." Was all he said.

...

"My mother died when I was small," Christine stated quietly. "I can't remember much about her but the things I can remember I cherish, like how she was always laughing and she never got cross with me-"

"And your father?" He interrupted in a sharp tone.

Christine flinched and resumed her story. "My father was a good man, he was kind to me as well. But.. After mama died, he began to change. He started to drink badly and would spend most of his time cursing God for taking mama away. I spent those days staying out of the way of him, it's silly but..I know he would never have hit me no matter how drunk he was, but I was still scared of him-"

"Did ether of your parents ever beat you, Christine?" He looked at her in admiration. "My valient Christine, that is why you are so well behaved, your parents did not spare the rod."

"Erik, my parents were not like that. I loved them both because they never hurt me, if I was naughty I'd get sent to bed without supper and that was the worst punishment they ever did!" Christine hesitated before she bit her lip to prevent herself from saying any more.

"You spoke of love for your parents, Christine. I can only assume it is because they brought you up correctly. You said your father would never raise his hand to you when drunk, which is acceptable, but you cannot expect me to believe that your father never disciplined you when he was sober?" He asked with an incredulous tone.

"I don't expect you to believe anything, Erik. But that is how my father raised me, with kindness and not cruelty. That's why I became scared of him when he was drunk, because I'd never seen him act like that before."

He was silent for a few seconds before he spoke again. "And then what happened?" His voice was flat and his expression was blank. "Do continue, Christine."

Christine looked at him fearfully before she continued. "One day, my father announced that he was leaving and that I had to make a choice I could stay in the house by myself or I could go with him as he made his fortune, I was about ten at the time..And I can still remember how he looked as he held up his violin and told me that he'd prove to everyone what a good musician he was, even though he was a humble farmer. I think now though..That I never really had a choice, he knew that I'd never let him leave without me. So we set off together and left the only life I'd ever known, I'd sing and he'd play his violin and for a while he started to return to being my father..The one before mama died."

He was totally silent, he waited until Christine glanced his way before he spoke. "At least your father never left you in the clutches of.." his eyes ticked nervously and his lips fluttered before he murmured. "What happened next, Christine?"

"...Well, things didn't work out the way he hoped and we were struggling.. And what money we did get, he started to spend on drink. When he got really drunk he'd grab me and shake me as he shouted what a failure he was, and I'd cry because he wasn't a failure to me and I wanted him to stop acting like that. I wanted..My father back. Afterwards he'd beg me to forgive him and spoil me with as many sweets as we could afford..But those events became more and more frequent and each rejection stung him more then the last.."

"Was he a good violinist? Was he better then me? What type of Violin did he use and what did it look like?" He could not stop himself from asking her.

Christine looked a little puzzled at his question, but a soft and shy smile began to form on her lips. "I don't know if he was as good as you, Erik. But to me, he was the best violin player in the world! And the violin! Oh Erik, it was beautiful! It was like a lot of violins until you really looked at it, and then you saw engraved in the wood an angel! It was a very old violin and very worn, but I could still make out the angel's face on it. Sometimes I used to pretend that the violin was really an angel and was simply pretending to be a violin and that would give me the courage to sing as we traveled, eventually I didn't even need to be brave anymore and I really loved to travel and sing and when father was in a good mood it was even lovelier!"

He was overjoyed that Christine was smiling, it may not have being the smile that she blessed most people with, but it was the most she had ever smiled in his presence. He was so happy that he did not even mind when she stated that her father was the best violinist she had ever heard, after all, it was the joy of music that clearly made her happy. Not anyone else, and although she said that things were better when her father was in a good frame of mind, he reasoned that this was simply because the man played much better when he was in a good mood. He could handle seeing Christine happy in that way, since music was also his greatest pleasure.

"And now you can sing for me, Christine." His smile was gentle as he spoke, but he could not understand why Christine had stopped smiling afterwards.

"Well.." she resumed her story in a more subdued tone. "It wasn't meant to last because we had to sell the violin once we were in Paris or we'd starve.. But luckily afterwards we were found by a kind professor who heard me sing and offered my father and me a place to stay in exchange for giving me lessons..But shortly afterwards my father got sick and...And.. Joined mama.. But the professor and his wife took me in, and when I got into the opera house I made lots of friends so they helped me a lot and-"

"Enough, Christine!" He cutted into her story with a voice of steel. "Enough." His hands shook as he croaked out. "Why..? Why does your story still have happiness in it? Why does your story get better as it progresses?!" He felt distraught at the prospect.

"...I've had hardships, Erik. But I can't imagine what kind of life you had if-"

"HARDSHIPS?!" He roared as he leaped to his feet and began to pace the room. "You would dare to liken your life to mine? If only I had simply had hardships!" He stopped his pacing and looked at her. "Why did I ever expect you to have anything but a happy life? How could I ever expect you to understand my suffering... My Ruin... With your perfect face, with your perfect life? How could I ever expect you to relate...To my hell..?"

"I..I-I think that no matter how many painful things we endure, we eventually become numb to it so it doesn't hurt so much anymore," Christine whispered timidly as she gazed at the floor.

He shut his eyes. "Numb," he murmured slowly as though he was tasting the word. "I suppose that I have also grown numb to the pain, or at least most of the pain." He touched his face swiftly. "This pain..I will always feel..that's why.." He trailed off for a few seconds, his hand began to shake as he lowered it from his face. "But you see, Christine.. Not all pain can be numbed, not every wound will close, not every scar will fade.. I can numb myself to pain, and then have even more agonising pain forced on to me..Again and Again, Christine." He finished softly.

He wanted to tell her his fear._ 'I am terrified that I will break, that the pain will devour my soul and leave nothing of me left_.' He could not bring himself to do so, he did not want her to think that he was weak.

Christine looked at him with sadness reflected clearly in her eyes. "Is that why...You are angry at my story getting happier?"

He considered her words. "I do not know...But.." He started to smile. "I do know that any happiness you have must be through me and me alone, every laugh must be through me..Every smile must be mine, your every sorrow and tears you shed must also be mine and mine alone. Is it selfish of me to ask this of you?" His smile became almost tranquil. "Ah, but what is love without sacrifice? I am already yours, my beloved. All I ask is that you will also be mine, and in doing so we will both go to the same place..side by side."

"The same place?" She asked timidly.

"Ah, my angel." He tutted. "Curiosity is a grave sin, there are some things that you do not need to ever know." He clapped his hands loudly. "Now, Christine...Shall we begin your music lesson?"

It was not a request.

...

"You are pushing yourself to much, my beloved." He childed her in a soft tone when she had finished singing.

"But Marguerite's happy, so I thought that maybe I should-"

"You would dare to lecture me upon the art of music, Christine?" He cut her words short, his lips had contorted into a displeased snarl.

"No! Of course not, you are the greatest teacher in everything to do with music!" She squeaked timidly.

He relaxed slightly and began to smile once more, he was clearly pleased with her words. "Indeed I am, my love. That is why I am delighted, no I am ecstatic, that your voice can keep up with my lessons." He chuckled. "And soon, those foolish managers will be at your feet and begging to hear even the slightest sound of your voice! And I.. Will not even need to intervene in order to make it occur!"

Christine looked at him nervously and a wistful smile tugged at his lips. "Although.." he began cautiously and watched her reaction. "I must say that I do envy you, Christine."

Christine's expression was replaced with a look of shock. "You envy me, Erik..But why?" She asked nervously, she looked as though she almost dreaded an answer.

He was not sure how to proceed, he had intended to tell her about The Ruin, but her expression had made him very cautious. He looked down at his ruined hands in thought before he cleared his throat.

"My parents never approved of me singing, Christine. Even before...Before.."

She walked over and hesitated for a moment before she gently touched his shoulder. "Erik..?"

He flinched at her touch, he whispered. "They rejected me, Christine. They rejected me when I needed them most, they called me a monster. My poor beautiful mother and my poor proud father, I brought them shame!" His eyes glazed over slightly. "They said that no amount of singing would ever made me anything better then what I was, a hideous creature!" His voice was now reduced to a whisper. "And they were right, I did not believe them at first but..But.."

"Oh Erik.." Christine's voice was full of sympathy. "They had no right to treat you that way, you're not a monst-"

He jumped up and clasped her hands tightly in his, his eyes were almost manic. "They had every right, Christine! This worthless Erik had being bad! He had disobeyed them, so he needed to learn! He needed to be taught a lesson!" He tightened his grip upon her hands. "They did what they needed to do, they needed to show me that I was a monster! Do you see, Christine!?"

Christine whimpered and tried to remove her hands from his. "Erik, please.. Let go of my hands!"

He froze, the almost manic look within his eyes had faded, but they still danced with a disturbing light. He glanced down at Christine's hands, caged within his own.

"Ah, Christine, I am glad that you see a man and not a monster. So very glad." He purred. "As my Angel commands me, I shall release her hands. I do not want to hurt you after all. My beloved Christine, my cherished Angel. My salvation and saviour." He gently began to release her hands and then paused as the light from his mother's wedding ring danced in his vision.

"Oh, Christine. Her ring looks so beautiful on you, I am so happy that you have not removed it." He looked transfixed at the sight of the ring on her hand, as though he had never seen her wear it before. "I am so happy..So so happy.."

"I-I promised I wouldn't take it off..S-So.." Christine stammered awkwardly and seemed to be unsure of how to respond to him. It infatuated and frustrated him all at once.

His eyes glinted. "My fair Angel, this unworthy Erik is grateful that you have honoured him like this." He looked into her eyes and stepped away from her. "Please, Christine. Do not ever take my mother's ring off, not even for a moment." His expression had softened affectionately as he spoke. "I do not know what I would do if you did."

Abruptly he began to walk away from her, towards the exit as though he had remembered something. "Now, my love. I need to leave the Opera house for a while, I will return later."

Before he was out the door Christine inquired in a fearful tone. "Erik, where exactly are you going a-and what are you planning?"

He placed his mask on his face and smiled beneath it. Before he allowed the door to swing shut between them he answered in an almost jovial tone.

"Oh, you do not need to worry about it."

The door swung shut between them before Christine could reply.

..

He was very pleased with himself, he had got a lot done within the past two hours. From writing letters to the appropriate people and ensuring that payments would be received, he had accomplished much more then he expected to get done. Of course it certainly did help that he weaved a powerful web of deceit and hid behind his many borrowed identities to aid his plans. Soon the things he required would arrive and he be so much closer to finishing the surprise he had in store for Christine.

For the first time in a very long time he was genuinely excited for the events that were to come, this would truly be the best thing he had accomplished yet. All for his beloved Christine.

There were, however, still some loose ends to be dealt with. The most obvious one was the Viscount and his persistent nature. He knew he needed to dispose of him as soon as the opportunity arose, but was torn on how to kill him. On one hand he simply wished to get the Viscount out of the way, on the other hand he wanted to draw out death and make it as painful as possible. After all, the Viscount was the only obstacle between Christine and himself. Once the Viscount was gone, Christine would then be free give her love to him and only to him.

He did regret not killing the Viscount at the masquerade ball, but had tried to push those regrets into the back of his mind. They would only serve to make him angry, and when he got angry he could not control his own actions and that would ruin everything. All he needed to do was do what he was best at. Waiting and watching. The Viscount's death would come one way or another.

He was looking forward to hearing the pig squeal.

...

He had walked with a spring in his step all the way back to his lair, even though he was cloaked in shadows, his heart felt warm. After he crossed the lake he removed his mask and all but skipped into his room. He felt giddy and lighthearted. The preparation of Christine's surprised had filled him with an almost boyish excitement, however as he flicked his eyes to the door that led to Christine's room he noticed instantly something that disturbed and upset him. The door was not closed totally.

He matched into Christine room and his suspicions were confirmed, her beautiful eyes were filled to the brim with guilt.

'_Why must you keep hurting me, my cruel Christine!?_' He wailed internally, but outwardly he was calm. "I see that the door was opened, Christine."

"I-" She began, but he cut her off with a simple slicing gesture.

"You know, KNOW, that I do not like you entering my room without my knowledge.' His voice had began to rise.

"I'm sorry Erik." Christine looked down at her hands, her delicate shoulders visibly trembled even though she was trying not to show her fear. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His tone was almost amused when he replied. "And yet you do it anyway." He suddenly roared. "YET YOU DO IT ANYWAY! DO MY FEELINGS MEAN SO LITTLE TO YOU!?"

He paced the room in agitation, he no longer roared but alternated between speaking in a rapid emotional tone and a slow emotionless one. Christine had backed away and watched him like a nervous rabbit watches a potential predator and that made him feel even worse, it made him feel enraged.

"I blame myself for thinking you were different, for thinking that you actually saw poor Erik." He picked up a decorative vase and threw it against the wall. "But I was wrong!" He shouted over the sound of the smash. "Was everything you ever said a lie, Christine!? Is that why you are so heartless to poor Erik!?" He picked up a shard of the vase and barely felt it cut into his hand.

"NO ERIK!" Christine suddenly screamed at him as she began to step back until her back touched the wall. "Please don't!" She begged him in a tone that oozed of fear, her eyes were wide and unblinking. Her face was frozen in horror as tears started to trickle from her eyes.

He let out a bitter chuckle. "I was right..You do think I am a monster." He locked his eyes with hers and began to toy with the shard he gripped in his hand. "I should have killed the Viscount when I had the chance.. Men like him, gifted with their perfect faces, always rip everything away from me. And all I can do..is suffer-"

"You shouldn't want to die like this!" Christine sobbed out. "Erik, I don't want you to kill Raoul or hurt anyone! I don't want you to kill yourself in such a horrible way ether, so please put the shard down!"

He paused. "You would..Beg for both my life and the Viscount's?" His expression was unreadable.

"Erik, please just put the shard down! Please!" Christine dropped to her knees and buried her head in her hands. "I don't want things to be this way!"

He shut his eyes and listened to her sobs. "Christine." He whispered. "Did you know that in this Opera house there is a place without darkness? A place filled with light? I would gladly go to that hell together with you." He let the shard fall from his hand. "Would your Viscount do that for you?"

"Erik..I-I can help you..I really want to help you..So please..Let me help you." Christine begged him as she slowly stood back up.

He opened his eyes and began to smile darkly. "You will help me..Will you? Well, Christine that is something that we will have to see..For as long as it takes."

"Erik..?" Christine looked unnerved, her hands were wrapped against herself tightly and she still trembled. "I don't understand what you mean..H-has it got anything to do with..The place you mentioned?"

"...I am going to take you back to the dressing room entrance. Do not question me." He added sharply when she opened her mouth to speak. He said no more as he grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the darkness, he noted in satisfaction that she had already closed her eyes.

...

He had opened to door that led into the real dressing room for her. He wondered how things had gone so horrible, how a happy day became horrendous in a short space of time. Still, he had decided upon one thing though because of this day.

"Christine, before you go.. I want to say something." He murmered as he kept his eyes upon the door. "I never want you to enter my room without my consent again, do you understand? This poor Erik also implores you to keep his mother's wedding ring on, because he loves you so dearly..And Mother would approve. Also, Christine..Should I find out that you are..." His lips moved as though he had a sour taste in his mouth. "...Yearning for any man but me, well... I have the most delightful rope to fit around his neck..And, Christine. I have given some thought about it, and I have decided that I will not try to kill the Viscount."

Up until then, Christine had being nodding nervously. She had looked terrified at the thought of him hanging anyone. Now she looked upon him with disbelief and gratitude, her whole face seemed to light up. "Thank you, Erik, thank you!"

In reply, he simply gestured to the door. He watched as she ran joyfully passed him and into the real dressing room. He closed the door quietly behind her and began to chuckle.

..

'_Poor Erik.._' The voice whispered to him. _'Poor, stupid, stubborn Erik..How long are you going to continue like this?'_

He paused in mid step and ground his teeth. "Why must you torment me?"

'_Its the same cycle, over and over. You keep wanting to tell her, she hurts you and therefore stops you. You become happy, she enrages you. Over and over, the same thing. Eventually..Something or someone has to break.'_

He resumed his brisk pace down the spiral staircase, now and then he glanced upwards in order to ensure that his exit was not blocked. He kept one hand on the wall and he could feel the dust from its surface cling onto his skin. It was yet another reminder of how little he came down here.

"You speak of things you do not understand." He hissed to the voice. "Our love is pure, our love is true..But every time there is always someone in the way..Also.." he paused as he took the last step with slow deliberation. "I have no intention of breaking."

'_Because you are already broken?_' The voice cooed almost affectionately.

He walked towards the large door that awaited him. He tilted his head in thought before he murmured. "Because I am Don Juan Triumphant, I will never be broken."

He pushed the door open.

(Chapter end)


	6. Chapter five Broken

**Nb: Hello everyone! Once again, thank you all for your continued interest! It makes me happy to know that people are still enjoying the story! Thank you once again Phantomfan01 for all your reviews and thank you QueenoftheNight82 for your review! =) I hope you all enjoy the chapter!**

He stood in the doorway as dust flew around him like snow, he reached into a small alcove and took out the lantern he kept there. With great care, that was born from fear, he carefully lit the lantern, he held it up and watched as the light made the shadows dance. He began to laugh as he walked into the room, with the lantern held in front of him. Now and then the light would catch and glint on some of the objects, now and then he would run his free hand upon one of the objects in the parody of a caress. Some of the objects would creak and others would let out soft metallic sounds, certain objects had no sound of their own other then the whisper of his hand upon them.

He laughed to himself all the while, he was overcome with amusement. He spoke in a sing song voice to himself. "Oh, fair and noble angel! You have made your will clear, and your humble Erik will obey~!"

He placed his hand upon a lever and pulled it down, artificial light began to illuminate the room with a loud clang. One by one, bit by bit, the room was slowly filled the shadows of the room were chased away and in their place stood his master pieces.

He scanned the room slowly and nodded to himself, he moved away from the lever and stood in the centre of the room. He looked from one object to the other in careful consideration. From the study wooden objects, to the dulled metal ones that would never reflect an image within them. He had endless possibilities before him and he considered himself to be a cheat if he picked more then one. He had a lot of time to make such a choice, since it was not simply dependent upon Christine's return, but at the same time it was not a choice that he could leave idle. After all, he promised Christine that he would not try to kill the Viscount.

He would destroy him.

Yet it was not enough, he reasoned, to simply kill the faux Don Juan. The Viscount had got in his way to many times in order to be granted a merciful death. The Viscount would be made to scream before he died, and Christine would never know a thing.

"Oh..I can hear you already, Viscount." He chuckled. "I can hear you squealing like the swine you are...Now.. How shall I break you?"

His gleaming eyes settled upon one of his devices and he grinned.

...

He was shocked and yet overjoyed. Despite it only being a few days, Christine had already returned to him and not only that but she had returned of her own will.

Earlier in the day he had being carefully making certain that 'Mother' was ready for use, and by the time he had finished with the necessary checks he was feeling exhausted. It had being some years since he had smuggled 'Mother' and his other master pieces to his home and even longer since he had maintained them and put them to use.

He had contemplated upon retiring to the coffin that he used as a bed for an early slumber, even though he knew he would not get to sleep. In the end he decided to go to the mirror dressing room to see if Christine was in her dressing room. He loved watching her when she thought he was not there, even if it saddened him that she was so different around him or when she knew he was there.

He wondered if she would be talking to her friends when he got there, if he were lucky he might even get there in time to see her smile at one of their idiotic jokes.

He was surprised however when he entered the mirror dressing room and heard Christine's voice call out to him from the other side.

"Erik? I-I hope it's okay, but I came to see you early..A-Are you there?"

He ran to the mirror and opened it as quickly as he could, his smile was filled with joy as he looked at her. He stepped to the side politely so she could enter.

"I am always here, My Christine." He confirmed gently.

..

They had made their way back to her room in silence, he had a smile so wide that it hurt his face, and Christine looked almost pensive but had held his hand tighter then normal as he led her to his home.

When they entered her room she opened her eyes and smiled a weak smile at him, he was stunned and could only smile like a fool back at her. Christine broke the silence first.

"I said I'd be back, Erik."

"Indeed y-you did." He stuttered before he cleared his throat. "Indeed you did." His voice was soft. "You have no idea how happy that makes me, Christine. It truly makes me happy." He closed his eyes and listened."I can hear music, Christine.. Heavenly music, oh how beautiful your return is!"

Christine blushed and looked down, her expression was a mixture of nervous and shy emotions that gently flitted across her face. Her voice however was steady.

"I've always come back to you, haven't I?"

He nodded. "You always have." He agreed in a level tone.

'T_hat is why I know you are MINE_.' He thought ecstaticly.

Something in his face must have unnerved Christine because she gulped softly and nervously inquired if he was well.

"I am much better now you are here, my love." He reassured her. "Now, shall we have another music lesson?"

This time it was a request.

...

He had his eyes shut as he listened to Christine sing, he nodded slowly to himself as she hit all the right notes with precision and ease. Something had changed within her, he could tell from her singing. Yet he was unsure what that was and dared to hope that it was something to do with himself, maybe she subconsciously knew what he intended to do to the Viscount. He had heard that when a bond of love is so strong, the two lovers in question could understand each other without a single word being spoken between them. Although this was true in his case and he often knew what Christine wanted before she even knew herself, he was delighted to think that she felt the same about him.

He became suddenly aware of of her silence and realized that she had finished her song, he opened his eyes and began to applaud.

"That was very good, my Angel! Your singing has truly become exquisite!"

To his surprise and delight she let out a quiet giggle. "I..Actually thought you had fallen to sleep, Erik.."

He pretended to me offered by her statement. "Never! I was simply lost in a state of deep meditation, it is your fault for bewitching me!" He was puzzled when she seemed to tense, he wondered if she knew he was simply playing the role of a jester. He began to open his mouth to reassure her when she quickly interrupted him.

"I suppose I'm just happy that one of my worries is gone." The words rushed out from her mouth and she rung her hands. "In fact the dancers-"

"What did they do!?" He boomed and made her jump. "Did they dare to hurt you!? IF SO THEY HAVE DANCED THEIR LAST-"

" N-No Erik, don't hurt them! They helped me by going on strike.. now I don't have to worry about the managers firing me." She rushed to sooth him.

"I could have taken care of those worthless fools, Christine." He replied in a hurt tone. He was aware that she had run into some difficulties with the management, but he was sure that she would come to him first if she needed assistance in dealing with them.

Christine bit her lip. "I know you could have, Erik..But I didn't want to trouble you so. But anyway, the good news is that I can play as Marguerite again without worry!"

His face lit up, although his eyes still blazed with smoldering fire. "That is wonderful, Christine! I will soon make a trip to my box seat in that case!" His expression dimmed. "Although I do wish that you had allowed me to deal with the managers, your concern for me warms my heart so we will leave it at that..But Christine." He walked over to her and gently took her hands in his. "There is nothing that I would not do for you, you only have to ask."

Christine shivered a little and changed the subject. "So.. How is 'Don Juan Triumphant' comming along?"

He let go of her hands with care, his expression was contemplative. "It is of course going very well with you as my muse, Christine. But I am however worried that I might not be able to finish my opus."

"Why, Erik?"

"Once Don Juan Triumphant is finished the only thing left for me is eternal rest, Christine. I had thought for a very long time that my only joy would be my death, because by being dead no one would ever mistreat me because of this face ever again. I may have endured The Ruin, Christine. But I cannot outlive it, in fact, before you came along my Angel.. I did not even want to, I cursed the day that the Ruin did not consume me whole. The only thing that kept me alive was my opus, which now that I think about it was terribly ironic."

"Oh Erik..that's so sad." Christine said gently, her expression was pained and her eyes radiated sympathy. "Erik.. What is 'The Ruin?'"

He looked at his ruined hands and then shut his eyes, he almost seemed to shrink in upon himself. "The Ruin." He murmured in a hollow tone. "The Ruin is..I-Is..." He trailed off.

"I- I'm sorry, Erik..I didn't mean to make you talk about something that makes you so sad.."

He opened his eyes. "I want to tell you about it, my Angel..But not now.." He took a deep breath and changed the subject before she could say more. "To continue our conversation about my opus, it is no longer the only thing that drives me.. And I find myself less willing to die." He began to smile at her with a teasing look in his eyes. "I wonder why that is..? Regardless, I would like you to stay a little longer this time, Christine. I am just in the process of writing about the part when Don Juan impales his foolish foes!" He smirked slightly and his eyes flashed with an almost devilish glee. "I wonder.. Should Don Juan use his blades or maybe he should use the maiden's embrace?"

"I-I...Will certainly stay if it means being able to help you.."

"My Angel, I have the deepest suspicion that you are simply agreeing to help me so you can see me dead in my coffin!"

"N-No Erik, of course not!"

"My love, you must really learn to handle a joke." He laughed.

..

He watched Christine move around the room quietly, he had silently kicked himself for making such a crass joke. His Angel's heart was so pure, so untainted that he should have thought more before he joked. He noticed that she was standing next to his favourite book case which symbolically gave shelter to one of the few fictional books he still enjoyed, the book also served another purpose. It amused him and he had praised himself often for his wit.

"Erik..?" Christine interrupted his thoughts. "Is there another passage here?"

He was delighted that she had noticed. He walked over and stood next to her, he placed his hand upon the spine of Dante's divine Comedy in an subconsciously affectionate gesture. He looked at her.

"I am impressed, my love. Not many people would notice. To answer your question there is indeed another passage here, this one is very special. It leads to the place were there is no darkness."

He watched her think about what he had just said, he noticed how her nose seemed to crinkle a little when she was deep in thought. He found that adorable and it took all his willpower to pull his eyes away. He focused back upon the bookshelf. "I have noticed that you really seem to love the written word, Christine."

"Oh yes...I really enjoy fiction but..There's not much on the shelves."

"Fiction is worthless, Christine. Very few pieces of fiction hold any real value, in fact I can guarantee that my own life is more bizarre then the most interesting piece of fiction." He declared in a bitter tone.

"O-Oh.. I'm sorry, Erik.. I keep making things worse, don't I?" She spoke in a quiet tone, he could hear an undertone of a tremor within it.

He was feeling uneasy. His thoughts raced. '_Why is she acting so strange towards me?_' He wondered to himself. _'I have being the perfect gentleman to her and I have even allowed her to leave my side for a while even though it hurts me to do so. Why is she acting as if she is..Uneasy? No, it is almost as if she is afraid of me, but how can that be? Can she not see how much I worship her?_'

Her sweet voice sliced through his thoughts as she spoke. "Actually Erik.. I know a fictional story..M-May I tell it to you?"

"Of course." He said with a smile.

'_If she is afraid of me, I do not know what I will do! She cannot be afraid of me, she cannot be!_' His thoughts silently screamed.

..

"There once was a girl called Lottie, she loved the violin and practiced day and night so she could become a great musician. Her dream was to play in front of many people and create songs that would move their hearts. When she wasn't practicing, Lottie enjoyed running around the wide open fields of her home. Lottie had hair that was brighter then the sun and eyes that were a crystal clear blue, she had a heart that was pure and fair.."

"Lottie reminds me so much of you, Christine." He interrupted with a genuine smile.

Christine hesitated before she continued. "Because Lottie loved to dream, what she enjoyed most was her mother's stories. Especially the Angel of music. Lottie's mother always told her that the angel of music always appears to those who are in desperate need or are going through a hard time.."

He tilted his head slightly as he once again spoke. "Just like I did with you, Christine. Although I simply acted as though I was one, you are the real angel. No other would accept this poor Erik with open arms like you have done."

"..I actually did think you were the Angel of music when I heard your voice, Erik." She stated quietly.

He was pleased at the thought and actually began to enjoy her story.

"So Lottie went in search of the Angel of music without really realizing that you don't find the angel, he finds you. But her spirits were never dampened at all, because she knew that once the Angel had given her the gift of music.. Mortal music would seem silly by comparison and she would only be able to play the music the angel had given her.. Erik? Are you enjoying the story?"

"I...I actually am.. Lottie sounds very wise in the matters of music."

Christine smiled shyly and resumed her story, she seemed more confident now she knew he was enjoying it.

"Lotte became better and better as she practiced with her violin, but she often wondered if the angel would hear her and grant her his gift. She was torn because she loved the songs she knew, even though the Angel would give her better ones. So in the end, Lottie realized that she didn't need to look for the Angel because she was happy without his gift. She was happy enough to fall asleep to the sound of her mother's stories about the Angel..."

"I cannot envision a time when I was ever read a story to put me into a peaceful slumber by my ether my mother or my father." He said quietly with an unreadable expression.

"Didn't they read any stories at all to you?" Christine sounded surprised.

He cringed. "No. They felt that fiction was very unbecoming and that it was a tool of useless individuals and the mentality disturbed..." He trailed off.

"Oh Erik..Your Parents sound.. "

"Sensible? I agree, they knew what was best for me.. But this ungrateful Erik was often disobedient.." He looked away from her for a few moments in embarrassment.

"How?"

He could not meet her gaze as he mumbled."I once smuggled a few works of fiction into our home."

"Did your parents find out?" She inquired gently.

He met her gaze with distant eyes. "O-Of course they did..But their punishment was just!"

"Erik..However your parents treated you, they were wrong to do so! Did your father ever once do anything kind for you? Did your mother-" Christine sounded angry as she spoke.

"Christine, that is enough.." he hissed, his countenance had darkened and his eyes had begun to blaze.

"No Erik, it's not! Whenever you talk about your parents, you sound traumatised! You shouldn't justify them! I know that if my mother or father had treated me that way then I-"

"SILENCE!" He bellowed at her with a snarl.

"Erik..I.." She had begun to step away from him, but stopped herself. Her eyes were teary and she looked at him with an expression that he did not understand.

He took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself down, when he next spoke his voice was even but his eyes still held his rage within them.

"It is alright, my love. Even perfect beings can make mistakes, but please be more careful. This poor Erik can only tolerate so much. Mother and father must never be criticised, especially not Mother. She always knew what was best for poor Erik." The anger faded a little and he began to smile once again. "But this poor Erik is grateful that you would listen to his pain and care about him. It is.. A wonderful thing, to have my beloved angel listen to me.."

Christine inhaled sharply as though she had made up her mind about something and spoke quickly as she interrupted him."Erik..I-I'm going to be honest...I'm afraid of you.."

"What did you just say!?" He asked sharply, he was unsure he had heard her correctly and hoped he had heard wrong.

She whispered. "I'm scared of you.. You can treat me so kindly but then you'll suddenly get so angry and I don't know how to talk to you! I want to trust you, Erik.. But..."

"WHAT MORE MUST I DO, CHRISTINE?! Have I not treated you with love and kindness!? Have I not shown you how much I adore you!?" He screamed in fury. "I am trying, poor Erik is trying so hard because he loves you so much! What else can I do, Christine!? What more do you want of me!?"

"...A month." She stated quietly.

His words caught in his throat and he looked at her in disbelief as he rasped "...Pardon?"

"I want a month so I can get things in order, Erik.. I know it's a big request but, I'll be able to trust you so much more if you can grant it.." Her voice was firm as she spoke, and she looked at him without wavering

"You would dare to try and manipulate my love for you? Is my love really that worthless to you!?" He asked in a sharp tone as his body shook with rage.

"Erik, it's not that-"

He had a sudden wave of calm engulf him as well as a blast of clarity, he began to smirk and his voice was almost coy when he talked over her. "Do you think I am an idiot, Christine? You want to see the Viscount, do you not? Why, Christine? Do not even think of lying to me, things will go very...Unpleasant...Between us if you do."

"I...I do need to go and see Raoul, Erik."

He strode over and took her right hand into his and although his voice was deceptively gentle, it had an undertone that was as poisonous as a black widow's bite. "How cruel. You would use my feelings an attempt to elope with another man?"

"No, Erik! I only want a month so I can break off my relationship with Raoul slowly since he is leaving for an expedition to the North Pole when the month is over!"

He tightened his grip on her hand. "It sounds to me as though you are scheming against your faithful Erik.."

"Erik please let go of my hand, you're hurting me! I'm not planning anything, I promise-"

He did not hear the rest of what she said, he was lost in thought. _'Hmm...'_ He mused internally. '_I was going to lure the Viscount down here and introduce him to 'Mother'.. But the idea of him slowly freezing to death with a broken heart, drowning in misery in a strange land is very appealing.. If I allow Christine to do this then that foolish Viscount will be the most miserable man alive! But most importantly, Christine will be free to give her heart to me!_'

"Very well, Christine." He said out loud. "I will grant this request, as long as you play by my rules. I hope you believe me when I say that these are rules that you do not want to break, otherwise you will regret it." He released her hand and watched her rub it, her eyes were pained and he regretted that he had hurt her even though she had wounded his heart. It was the regret that softened his voice. "My rules should pose no issue for you, my love. All I require of you when you meet the Viscount is to only meet him on the Opera grounds and you must fulfil your end of our bargain on the very last day you will ever see him. Although I do not approve of how you have used my love for you, if this is what it takes to make you realise my adoration for you is true then so be it. After all, what is one month when we will have eternity?"

He offered his hand to her. "I will escort you out" He said with a dark smile.

...

"Thank you for escorting me and allowing me this favor, Erik." Christine's voice seemed so distant as she stood on the threshold between the mirror dressing room and her own. She could not meet his eyes and looked upon the floor. He did not like the idea of her absence. But he rationalized to himself that at least by the time the month was over, Christine's surprise would be ready and he could then show her how much he worshipped her.

"It is my pleasure, Christine. I do hope you will enjoy this month.. And, Christine? Do not betray my trust, the consequences will be vast if you do.. Are you sure that this is what you want?" He asked as he looked at her intensely.

To his surprise, she lifted her head up and looked him in the eye as she nodded. "Yes, Erik.."

"As you wish..I just hope that while you meet the Viscount, you do not forget about your poor Erik. That would be..Regrettable." He murmured darkly. "Most regrettable."

"I-I would never do that, Erik!"

"I am most glad. Remember my love, even if you cannot see me.. I am always watching." He walked back into the darkness and the door slid shut behind him.

..

'_When are you going to open your eyes, pitiful Erik? How long are you going to delude yourself into thinking that you will ever be loved by her?'_

He was tending to 'Mother' when the voice spoke. He almost jumped and ended up falling inside the device, and that would have being disastrous.

'_She's actually told you that she's afraid of you, how can you ever hope to turn fear into love?_' The voice almost sounded curious.

He stepped back from the device and placed his hand upon the one of two levers that jutted out of the wall. He addressed the voice while he looked at the lever.

"She already loves me, she just does not understand that yet. But I will help her understand."

_'And if she rejects you? You have taken an idiotic risk by allowing her to see the Viscount, what if she flees from you?_' The voice had become deceptively gentle.

He hesitated and tapped the lever in agitation. "She.. would never run from the one who loves her."

The voice seized upon his hesitation and chuckled. '_Oh? And what could a monster ever understand about love?_'

"I am not a monster! This was Christine's choice, she wants us to be together!" He hissed as he tightened his grip upon the lever.

'_Don't delude yourself! She's playing you for a fool and you know she is! What could she ever love about you, hmm?_' The voice scolded him without mercy or remorse.

"But she..." He began.

'_Will betray you at the first opportunity she gets! Do you really think that you stand a chance against that handsome, spoilt, Viscount?_' The voice interrupted him in a mocking tone.

"Shut up, damn you! I do not want to hear your voice again, do you hear me!? I have Christine, I do not need you!" He screamed in desperation. "Go away! Damn you, go away!"

The voice had sounded almost sad as it replied in a tone that was so soft he had struggled to hear it. '_Stupid Erik... How long will you have her for..? Without me, you will be alone..._'

"Christine still wears my ring, she will never leave me!"

'_You are wrong, gullible Erik.. Your heart will be broken.'_ The voice murmured.

"No, you are wrong in everything you say about her. The fact that she is still wearing my ring..."

He smiled and pulled the lever down.

"...is a declaration of our love!"

He watched as the hinged door swung shut with a moan as 'Mother' practiced her loving, cold and final Embrace.

(Chapter end)


	7. Chapter Six Declaration

Faces like mine chapter Six (declaration)

**Nb: hello everyone! As always, thank you all for your continued support and reviews, it means ever such a lot to me =) I hope you all like this chapter (It is another one that I think is a little slower and shorter then the others so I hope that it will still be enjoyable...) Also, I will be going on a trip for two weeks, so the next update will when I return. I am really sorry for the unexpected delay everyone. Now, the other thing I need to let you all know about is that I have placed two polls up, I was actually going to wait until the next chapter, but since I will be away I thought I would place them up now =) You do not have to vote if you do not wish to, and the polls will close upon my return. Anyway, I am sorry for the lengthy NB, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! =) Edit: Sorry everyone, I have only just found out that I can only have one poll on my profile. So I will place the second poll up after I have returned =) so please ignore my two poll statement. **

He monitored his pocket watch with an intense gaze. Now and then he would tear his eyes away from it and look around, from his vantage point he would miss nothing. He returned his attention to the dance of his watch's hands. Things would go according to plan. This was something he was certain of, but still he resolved to keep a very watchful eye on things.

Although his Angel was not predisposed to be deceitful, she was prone to be mislead.

Right on time and as though on cue, the Viscount marched into the opera house. His perfect face was full of bold determination and his movements were strong and confident. He had no idea that he was being watched from the shadows and no idea how close he was to death. Once again however, the Viscount was lucky. Once again he was spared by Christine. At least for a month and as long as she upheld her promise to break things off with him at the end.

From the shadows, Erik smiled and shut his pocket watch silently. He began to follow the Viscount to Christine's dressing room.

..

He listened to Christine and the Viscount speak in hushed tones, yet he still heard the excitement within their voices.

"Do you mean it?" The Viscount inquired excitedly.

"Yes!" His Angel all but sung. "This is what I want, even if it is only just for a month."

The Viscount continued to rattle on and Erik blanked him out. Christine's tones resounded in his skull, her happiness was evident.

'_But why? If she is only pretending to love him..Then why?!_' He had is own suspicions about the Viscount and Christine, and they only began to get worse after he heard that conversation. He wanted to burst into the room and destroy the Viscount there and then, the only thing that stopped him was Christine. His beloved Angel.

He heard them both move towards the door and blended back into the shadows effortlessly. When they exited the dressing room he noticed with fury that they were holding hands.

..

He followed them like a shadow, and watched their every move with jealousy. He was growing paranoid the more he watched them, he was becoming more resentful the more he heard them talk together. His eyes blazed from within the shadows that concealed him, vindictive in their intent. If his eyes could have killed in their intensity, then the Viscount would have died a thousand deaths. A thousand painful deaths.

He turned his gaze away from the Viscount and focused his gaze upon Christine, although his eyes has lost their wild flame of hatred, the hate was replaced with a level of chilling calculation. In his mind he began to visualise Christine's surprise and how he could spring it upon her. He knew that the circumstances and the timing not only had to be perfect, but its execution needed to be flawless. He also still lacked the final piece to his plan, but that would soon be delt with.

He watched as Christine spoke animatedly and gestured with joyful movements, his eyes focused on his mother's ring that caught the light in a bewitching manner.

He smiled.

...

Time passed at an agonising crawl for him, but still a time passed. Out of the promised month, only a single week remained and he could sense Christine's agitation. He was looking forward to the end of the month, the end of the Viscount's happiness. He already had a few optimal places ready so no matter where Christine told the faux Don Juan, he would be able to watch the light of hope drain from the Viscount's perfect face. He would be able to see the life drain from the fool's eyes, if he was lucky he would be treated to hearing the sound of the Viscount's heart break as his perfect life crumbled around him.

"And there's nothing you can do to stop it, Viscount." He chuckled to himself. "This poor Erik wonders how you will cope with Ruin. I look forward to watching it."

He was so certain of victory that he was shocked when the Viscount strode in with more determination then ever, that was not the look of a broken man who was about to be exiled to a frozen hell for something as idiotic as a noble family's ego. This was a man who was ready to fight. He did not like the way the Viscount was moving and prepared to follow him when he heard some voices inquiring about where they should put a 'strange delivery' and cursed to himself silently.

_'Of all the times it had to arrive, it is now!?_' He seethed internally as he looked back towards the direction the Viscount had gone. He heard the sounds of the delivery men fade away and made his choice, the Viscount could wait a few minutes. The surprise could not.

...

He regretted that he had chosen Christine's surprise over the Viscount, even though he was only a few minutes away from them like he estimated he would be, he felt as though he had missed something of immense importance. What he did overhear caused him to retreat to his home in anguish.

"I love you, Raoul." His Angel had said.

She might as well have stabbed him through the heart.

...

He was not thinking clearly as he watched Christine practice her performance as Marguerite from his box seat. A measly day did nothing to heal the sting in his heart, and he alternated between depression and rage respectively. When he raged he was sure that Christine was being led astray by the fiend of a Viscount, and when he was depressed he attempted to console himself with the thought that Christine was simply pretending to love the Viscount.

'_But my Angel is not only incapable of deception, but she is also a bad actress._' He thought to himself as he watched her sing. She was exquisite, she was not just playing the role, she was the role. He watched her, utterly mesmerized.

'_A little more practice and-'_ His thoughts halted abruptly and he began to smile. '_Six days of her month remain and she has not practised with me at all yet. That will not do, she will have to make up for lost time..Five days of it.'_

He waited until she had finished her performance and all but sang to her.

"Those who seek the angel are rewarded by his grace and mercy~"

He watched as she made her way out of the concert hall and nodded to himself as he made his own way to her dressing room.

..

Christine was silent when he took her back to his lair and only spoke they had returned, her voice was laced with worry. "Why have you called me back early, Erik?"

His tone was conversational and cheerful. "Oh my dearest love, I called you back to help you prepare to enchant the audience was Marguerite! Ah Christine, your song will lead me to salvation and-"

She watched him nervously as she interrupted him. "Umm..Erik? I'm v-very happy that you seem so excited but.. I'm just wondering if this is the best way to s-spend my time.."

"But Christine, you are making the best of your time.. You are spending it with me." He replied with an unreadable smile.

"But you know that I only have a few-"

"Ah, that reminds me." He interrupted her in a slightly sharper tone. "How many performances do you have left? I could not bare to miss even one!" He tilted his head towards her.

She bit her lip. "Two but-"

"Ah yes, that is providing that you do not have any other plans." He interrupted her in an almost languid tone.

She mouth moved wordlessly for a few seconds before she was able to whisper. "P-plans, Erik?"

His tone was almost cheerful as he replied. "Yes, Christine. Such as.. Oh, I do not know.." he tilted his head in mock contemplation before he shouted with a sudden ferociousness. "Such as eloping with the Viscount and running away from this poor Erik!"

Christine's looked both horrified and disappointed in him. "Erik! You W-Were watching us the whole time!? How could you?"

He narrowed his eyes as he regarded her. "I did tell you that I would watch over you and keep you safe, my angel." He sighed. "I do however wondered if you love me as much as I love you, and that makes me very angry. So angry-"

Christine held up a quivering hand and his mother's ring glinted softly. "Erik, I would never run away from you. I didn't know that Raoul was going to propose to me, I didn't know that he'd given up everything so that he could-"

"He is not going to die in a frozen hell?" He interrupted thoughtfully.

"No, he's given up everything to be with me-"

He laughted sharply. "He has forsaken his family?" He began to smile gently at Christine. "Oh, my kind Angel. I see now. You simply played along to his whims out of pity... My fair Christine, please forgive this worthless Erik! I thought you had meant to betray me..But.."

His eyes focused on his mother's ring before he looked into Christine's ocean kissed eyes and whispered. "..You really are mine."

Christine said nothing, she simply trembled.

...

The five days had come and gone in the blink of an eye for him. He had alternated between teaching Christine and tending to her, she had begun to look very sickly. He did not call attention to it, he was worried that she would lie to him and he could not bare that, not when things were going so well.

It had taken all of his willpower not to laugh at the thought of the Viscount and how he would be destroyed by the end of the day. Although he regretted not being able to introduce the Viscount to 'Mother' he did enjoy the thought of the Viscount suffering for the rest of his life. He hoped the Viscount would not take his own life, he wanted him to suffer for a very long time. To have a taste of Ruin.

As he watched Christine walk to the real dressing room he called to her gently. "My beloved, after this day nothing will come between us!" He had hoped to reassure her, and yet she seemed even more anxious and he could not understand why.

He did know however that there was one place in the Opera house that she had not taken the Faux Don Juan to, and that was the most likely place she would go to. He checked his pocket watch and smirked slightly when he heard the Viscount's voice.

...

As expected Christine took the Viscount to the roof and he followed them silently, he hid behind one of the statues as he listened to their conversation. Not for the first time in his life he was glad that the roof was made for people to walk on and as a result was just as grand as the rest of the building.

He could hear his Angel's voice so clearly as she spoke to the Viscount in a fearful tone, her words stumbled upon one another like clumsy dancers.

"I don't want it to end like this, Raoul. But I can't be with you." She had begun to sob. "I just can't.. So please just forget about me, for you own sake!"

"But why?" The Viscount whispered, his perfect face was distorted with sorrow.

Christine shook her head slowly and covered her face, he noted with satisfaction how his mother's ring fit her perfectly. He gazed towards the Viscount and saw his perfect face contort with dispair.

"Is it to do with..Erik?" The Viscount asked softly before he stepped forward. "Christine, please answer me honestly..Do you love Erik?"

From his hiding place he smirked at the Viscount's idiotic question as he thought. '_That Viscount truly is a fool! It is obvious to anyone that my Angel adores me-'_

"No!" Christine shouted and shattered his thoughts. "How could I ever love a cruel man like him!?"

He felt his legs almost buckle from under him, he grasped the statue for support and stared in shock at Christine. His body began to tremble as though he had being doused in icy water, his lips moved wordlessly and he could not even utter the only word that slammed against his skull like a trapped bird. _'...Why...?'_

He observed with dulled eyes that the Viscount's whole visage seemed to light up. "I was so worried, Christine." The Viscount said with a smile. "I was so worried that you did love that charlatan, the thought haunted me day and night."

"I only love you, Raoul." She replied in a gentle voice.

"And I love you, Christine. There is however one thing bothering me..That ring on your finger.. Could I have it?"

From his hiding place, he suppressed a scream of rage as Christine handed his mother's ring to the Viscount.

The Viscount inspected the ring thoughtfully. "Such an old ring..." The Viscount exhaled slowly as though he was preparing himself. "Now I can finally do what I felt like doing the moment I saw this ring on your finger. I can throw this away like the piece of junk that it is!"

He almost screamed in horror as The Viscount threw the ring over the edge of the building. As he turned he had just enough time to hear Christine scream. "Raoul! What have you done!?" before he made his way as quickly he could to where he thought the ring had landed.

...

He held the ring tightly in his ruined hands as he slowly staggered back to his lair. He was grateful that the ring was not damaged in anyway, it was after all, his beloved Mother's and she would have being furious with him if it was damaged. As soon as he reached the safety of his home he collapsed to his knees and began to sob uncontrollably as he clutched his mother's ring to his chest. He rocked back and forth as he whispered.

"How could she?"

'_You knew she never loved you._' The voice reprimanded him in a soft tone.

"But...But..I thought..."

'_Poor Erik, she took advantage of you. She lied to you. Tell me poor Erik, what is she?_' The voice coaxed.

"A liar!" He choked out between sobs.

'_That's right, a stupid little liar.. Pitiful Erik, look at what she's reduced you to. She's destroyed you. But... It's not to late, you know.'_ The voice whispered.

He wiped his eyes. "What do you mean?"

'_You need to stop thinking about her as an angel, and you need to stop thinking that you can ever be treated like a human again.. And when she visits you this time, as we both know she will, you must force her to stay. A few bruises and cuts are hardly going to kill her. The bite of a rope might do more good then harm if you need to restrain her. Act as though nothing's happenedand then ensnare her!'_

"If I do not see her as an Angel, what should I see her as?"

' _A wife._' Murmured the voice.

"But she does not love me." He rasped in a broken voice.

'_Then make her, poor Erik. Punish her, crush her, rebuild her, reshape her! Over and over for as long as you wish, for as long as you yearn for her love to be equal to yours! And then, when you have had your revenge.. Kill her. Disposable of her. Didn't you say that you would punish any who betray you?_'

He nodded in silence.

'_She has betrayed you like no other person before her! What are you going to do, pitiful Erik?'_ The voice was louder then then ever, it was almost a screech.

"Punish her!" He hissed.

_'How?!'_ The voice coaxed him in a voice like thunder.

"By chaining her to my side forever.. With this ring." He said slowly.

He gazed at the ring and smiled as he whispered.

"Thank you, Mother."

(Chapter end)


	8. Chapter seven Mother

Faces like mine chapter seven (Mother)

**Nb: Hello everyone! Thank you all once again for your support, and I am sorry for the wait. So now 'Faces like mine' is drawing to it's conclusion and I will be using the result of the poll for the ending, so thank you very much for your vote! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter =)**

It took all his willpower to wait for Christine to appear on her side of the mirror, he wanted to March out and drag her back, even if she kicked and screamed. But he knew he needed to bide his time, the important thing was to trap her without resistance. If she caused any commotion she her disappearance would be classed as a kidnapping and the last thing he wanted was unwanted fools traipsing around and distracting him.

No, Christine Daae needed to simply vanish without a trace.

_'And only I would know what became of her.' He mused. 'And she would have no choice but to be mine_.'

He wondered if she really would come, after her heartless betrayal he found that he had lost faith in everything about her. She was no longer a radiant angel who would save him, she was no longer something pure that he needed to worship.

She was simply a woman, a woman made from flesh and bone. She was something he needed to possess, something he needed to keep by his side. Forever.

He found himself thinking about his mother and how the ring had glinted upon her finger, how she wore it with an almost grim pride. After The Ruin, his mother had ranted that the ring was nothing more then a glorified ball and chain. That it trapped her, cursed her to be stuck with a tarnished son.

He hated thinking about her that way, with her face filled with disgust and hate. He did not want to remember how she forced him to look in the mirror or how she gave him away as if he was nothing. How she never once looked at him, not even when he dragged away and beaten. She never once looked back at him.

He did not want to remember those years of hell and shame that followed, nor did he want to remember the welcome he received when he finally returned home after those tortuous years.

What he wanted to remember was before The Ruin, when he was still her handsome and talented son. He wanted to remember her grim pride, the small and satisfied smile she wore when she looked with eyes that were the same colour as his own. He wanted to remember the feel of her long blonde hair when she allowed him to brush her hair for her.

He wished he could remember what her voice sounded like as she lectured him and guided him on the path he was meant to take. A path that he himself had destroyed by disobeying his parents with a simple, secret , forbidden trip to a opera house.

He shook his head in an attempt to banish the memories of The Beginning of the Ruin, he needed to be clear headed. As his thoughts faded, he heard Christine's voice.

"E-Erik, are y-you there?" Raw fear made her beautiful voice harsher then he had ever heard it and he smirked to himself.

'_Yes, Christine. You should be very afraid_.' He thought to himself before he composed himself and opened the door that separated them.

...

The journey back his lair was drenched in silence and when they entered into his home, he made his way to his pipe organ. He ran his ruined hands over the organs keys, his touch was light and gentle. He listened to Christine's nervous breathing and smiled to himself, with his back turned away from her he inquired in a soft tone.

"Are you well, Christine?"

She swallowed nervously and responded in a fearful whisper. "Why d-do you ask, E- Erik?"

"Something seems different about you...Whatever could it be..?" He mused out loud in false concern. "Speaking of which, how did things go with your precious Viscount?"

"Why are you acting this way, Erik?" He could hear the fear in her voice.

With his back still turned away from her, he slowly reached into his pocket and removed his mother's wedding ring, he heard her gasp in horror.

"I am very glad, you know." As he spoke he moved the ring left and right so that it glinted in the dim light. "So very glad that my beloved mother's ring did not break when your Viscount threw it off the roof. If this ring had broke, then I would have broke his skull. After all, this ring is my beloved Mother's. My most prized possession"

He spun around and gazed at her petrified face, she looked as though she was going to collapse and her lips moved wordlessly. He began to walk forward, not once did he break eye contact with her. His voice was deceptively gentle.

"I heard something very interesting on the roof, Christine. Something so hurtful and spiteful that I almost cannot believe it, in fact I would never have believed it..Had I not heard it from your own lips."

He stopped only inches away from her, she had began to tremble violently as she choked out. "W-what did you hear, Erik?"

He reached out and began to gently caress her face, when she tried to step away from him he grabbed her arm in a vice like grip with his free hand. He smiled all the while, and his eyes blazed.

"I heard that you do not love me." He stated softly. "You never loved this poor Erik."

As she tried to turn her head away from him, he gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. "Ah, Christine. What a pity. I would have being content to worship you, but you went and ruined it. I do hope your time with the Viscount was enjoyable, because you will never see him or anyone else ever again. You will rot down here. With me." His eyes became slightly distant. "Mother would approve, I think."

As Christine tremble she sobbed out. "Please Erik, don't do this.. Don't be like the very people who hurt you!"

He did not hear her words, only the fear in her voice. He pulled her close, until he felt her body against his and wrapped his arms around her. He trapped her in his embrace.

"Are you afraid, Christine?" He whispered into her ear. "There is no need to be, dispite how much you have hurt me.. You are still mine. This poor Erik still loves you. You have being bad, and I do need to punish you.. But I still love you, so I will never kill you. I just need to make you return my love, that is all."

She struggled in his arms but could not break free of his embrace, she pleaded with him. "Please don't do this! You can't make me love you!"

"When you were an angel, no," He conceded with a grim sight smile and a dark glint within his eyes. "But now that you are a woman, I can and.." he whispered into her ear. "When you are my wife, I will."

Until then she had clenched her eyes shut as she struggled to break free of him, but at the word 'wife' her eyes had snapped open and she went as still as a statue."W-what?" She croaked in sheer disbelief.

He pulled back and looked at her with a wide grin. "By lying to me, you proved to me that you are not an angel.. But I still love you, in fact I do not think I will ever stop loving you.. And with enough training, you will love me as well.. So the logical course of action, Christine.. Is to make you my wife!" He began to laugh. "Can you hear that, Christine?! I can hear wedding bells! Can you hear them, I-"

She interrupted him with a scream of dispair and horror before she swooned in his embrace.

...

He carried her to the room he had set aside for her surprise and paused, he shook his head slowly and went to a different room. He placed her down and knocked on the door before he opened it. As he picked her back up he called into the room.

"Mother? I would like you to meet Christine."

...

"She will wake up soon, Mother. She was like this when she first saw my face, a very different reaction from yours I know. I..Compare her quite a lot to you, actually. At first I thought that the two of you were totally different from one another, but I have come to realise that you are both more alike than I had originally thought.

Please forgive this worthless Erik for speaking so informality with you, but I have come to realise that you have both being cruel to this poor Erik. You both betrayed me. But I cannot live without ether of you.

At first I made a chamber that represented you and then I made things to fill it. I made them to represent aspects of you. My personal favourite is the iron casket that I made in your image, do you remember that mother? No, how could you? That was before I returned to your side.

Your embrace has being given to a great deal of people, but never to your son. Not since the Ruin. Mother? Have I not being punished enough? Is it wrong that when I embraced Christine for the first time that I thought of you? I-"

He paused and turned his gaze to Christine, he sat on the chair opposite her and smiled. "Ah, she is waking up. Do not worry, mother. She is bound upon your softest chair, she is both comfy and secure!"

When Christine groaned and opened her eyes he beamed at her. "Hello, Christine. I am glad you could join us. Mother has being looking forward to meeting you. My actual mother, not the replica I made of course."

Her eyes widened in confusion as she looked around the room. "What...?" She whispered.

"I know it is a lot to take in." He stated patiently. "But I decided that now would be a good time to introduce the two women I adore most to each other. I could never have introduced you to her when I thought you were an angel, Christine. After all, you know what happens when a man introduces his lady to his mother." He chuckled.

Christine blinked and looked at him in horror. "Erik that's..."

"Oh, I know Christine." He interrupted. "Mother overwhelms a lot of people who meet her, or rather, she once did before she gave up her social life to move in with me. This poor Erik is not worth her kindness! But I digress, you are the first person I have ever introduced to her since before..Before.. The Ruin.." his smile vanished and his eyes looked distant.

"But Eri-"

"Do not interrupt me." He snapped and then began to smile once again. "Ah, but Mother simply needed to meet you. You would be surprised about how often we have talked about you."

"Erik!" Christine shouted. "That's just a portrait!"

"No it is not, it is Mother. See how she smiles?" His own smile became soft. "I love it when mother smiles.. It has being a long time since she graced me with such a smile. And anyway, Christine.. Portraits cannot talk and mother and I talk every day, every day since I returned to her side. Every day since I made my home here. Every day, Christine. Could something as soulless as a portrait allow me to hear her voice so clearly?"

He was concerned when Christine began to try and escape from the chair, not only could Christine hurt herself but she could also damage his Mother's favourite guest chair.

He stood up from his own chair. "Please do not struggle, Christine. You will never escape me."

"Oh Erik!" She wailed. "The ropes are hurting me, I can't breathe!"

He hesitated and felt uncertain about what he should do. Although she was a liar, he still loved her dearly and her wails had cut at his resolve. He also reasoned that he could not marry her if she was dead.

"Do you promise not to flee from me?" He questioned her.

She nodded quickly and he sighed to himself. He cast an apologetic glance towards Mother and undid the rope that bound her. He noticed how sick she looked and decided to take her to the lake to give her some fresh air. Mother would never forgive him if Christine expired in her room.

"Mother, Christine and I will be back shortly." He called as he led Christine out.

...

_'Are you sure you are doing the right thing, stupid Erik_?' The voice inquired as he stood by the side of the lake and listened to Christine's sobbing.

"She is mine." He murmured to the voice. "This will pass."

'I _don't mean that, Erik. I mean taking her out here. She's already betrayed you, but you still take her out here where she could attempt to escape.'_

"If she does that.. Then I will destroy this whole Opera house and everyone inside it. She ether lives by my side or dies with the blood of innocents on her hands."

_'Oh, and have you told her this?_' The voice chuckled.

"Why would I ever do that? She has broken my heart to much to deserve such courtesies." He chuckled with the voice that was familiar but no longer hateful.

He walked back up to Christine who watched him with darting eyes. He offered his hand to her. "Come now, Christine." He coaxed her. "In time, you will remember none of what you feel now.. In time, you will come to love me and that is all that will matter."

As he reached for her hand, he heard a voice behind him. A voice he hated more then anything.

"Get away from her, you monster!" The voice shouted.

He smiled to himself as he addressed the voice. "I do not recall sending you an invitation to our wedding..." He turned to the owner of the voice and smirked.

"...Viscount."

(Chapter end)


	9. Final Chapter Mori

Final Chapter, Mori

"I do not believe I sent an invitation to you for our wedding, Viscount. But for you, I can certainly make an exception!" He laughed as he faced the other man. "In fact, you have done me a great deed. Now I do not need to hunt you down."

He smirked as the Viscount pulled out a pistol and aimed it at him. The Viscount's voice was steady and filled with resolve as he spoke, but his hands shook. "Step away from Christine, you monster!"

He felt his lips curl in a beast like snarl, he hissed out a laugh. "The monster is not I, Viscount. The monster is YOU. With your perfect face and your vile lust! You would dare to try and steal her from me? I am Don Juan Triumphant! I will be always be Triumphant!"

He lunged at the Viscount and the Viscount pulled the trigger.

...

He was feeling woozy, he had tended to the wound the best he could but he had lost a fair amount of blood. But, he knew, that it could have being much worse. The Viscount's bullet could have hit his heart instead of his shoulder. If the Viscount's hands had not trembled so violently, the out come could have being a very different one. He would not have wrestled the gun out the of the Viscount's grasp and hit him over the head with it, he would not have being able to order Christine at gunpoint to help him drag the faux Don Juan back to his lair. Instead, he would have died alone, defeated by a fool.

He had locked Christine in his mother's room and gave the unconscious Viscount another hit on the head with the gun in order to ensure that the man stayed unconscious, he then tended to his wound the best he could, before he dragged the Viscount to the place he told Christine about, the place with no darkness. Once he had imprisoned the Viscount within it and checked to make certain that the chamber was working correctly, he had staggered to his coffin to rest for a while.

The Viscount would strew appropriately and Christine would be left in the care of mother while he rested.

While he rested, he dreamed.

...

His mother was brushing her long blonde hair as she looked at her reflection in satisfaction. "Appearances are the most important thing, Erik." She said without pausing, her wedding ring winked in the light. "Without appearances people cannot tell a prince from a beggar, or a harlot from a wife. Without appearances..Who are you?" She looked at him with a tight smile. "If you weren't handsome, then you would not be my son. Life is really that simple and there is only one rule within it. Men and women of good breeding cannot be ugly, only commoners are allowed to be. Well.." she paused. "Commoners and monsters, at any rate."

She regarded him with a critical eye. "You know, if your father was not handsome then I never would have married him. Or tolerated him. One needs to think of what their children will look like, after all. I am very pleased with the result, good breeding always shows." She held up her hand to him and with an elegant finger she tapped the ring. "When you give this ring to your wife, you must always think of her looks first. Every other trait she has means nothing, every skill she has is irrelevant. Her appearance is the only thing you need to concern yourself with, you do not have to love her. Only tolerate her."

She tilted her head and her eyes glinted like a cat's, her eyes were the exact same as his own. "Remember that, Erik. If she does not look good upon your arm, if she will not breed well, then you must look for another. Once you place this ring upon her finger, you are bound to each other for life. So your choice must be perfect, I will not have the family name shamed by poor choosing and ugly offspring."

She turned her gaze back to the mirror and smiled at it. "You know, Erik.. When your father first met me, he told me the most interesting story about mirrors and how they banish darkness. Well, I must confess that I find the idea of a place without darkness to be dull. But the most interesting thing he said was how that if there are enough mirrors they can drive a person mad. They can break him beyond hope and reduce him to a shell. But most importantly, a multitude of mirrors can steal a person's soul and make them forget who they even are. A chamber full of mirrors would work, a prison filled with remorseless reflections no matter where one would look. Of course, your useless father had never created such a thing and simply told me about his theory. Do you know what I said to him?"

She placed a hand on the mirror and gazed at her reflection adoringly. "I said, 'I think your idea is just darling! I would love to see it!' Your father looked strangely shocked and to this day, I cannot fathom why. I was being trueful."

She sighed. "Can you picture it, Erik? You could put your most hated enemy in there and watch them break, or you could put your most beloved one in and reshape them! Oh, I wish someone could create that.. That would...Be just.."

...

He jumped up with the whisper of 'delightful' in his mind. He focused and could hear the faint shrieks of the Viscount and chuckled to himself.

It sounded like things were going well.

He stood up and staggered slightly, he was still slightly dizzy and off balance and he made a mental note to be careful. He picked up the Viscount's pistol and listened to the screams. He would leave the Viscount in a there a little while longer, he needed the Viscount in a weakened state in order for things to go smoothly.

He decided to go and get Christine from his mother's room, he needed to teach Christine never to defy him.

_'And what better way then by example?_' He mused to himself before he began to make his way there.

...

He unlocked and opened the door and watched as Christine cowered in fear, he glanced briefly towards Mother with an affectionate smile before he turned his attention back to Christine. In his hand he toyed with the Viscount's gun.

"Come, Christine. I am going to introduce that man to Mother, and you will be present for that." He said in a neutral tone, his expression was unreadable.

When she hesitated he snapped. "Now, Christine! I am getting impatient."

"But.. Isn't your mother..?" She trailed off and looked fearful.

He laughed. "He is not worthy of meeting her in person, so he will simply meet the replica that I have made. But he should be grateful of that, Christine. Only a few people get to meet her, and never two at a time." He waved the gun in an almost lazy motion. "Oh and Christine? If the two of you make any sudden movements or do anything that is not to my liking... I will shoot the faux Don Juan dead."

...

"Erik, please! Raoul's ill!" Christine shouted as she tried to support the Viscount as he marched the two of them to his room.

He ignored her pleas and talked over her. "Did you think it was clever of me, Christine? Was this poor Erik not clever in the design of the place with no darkness? How the very key to get in is hidden in the Divine Comedy? How does it feel, Christine!? How does it feel to know that your hand often brushed against the gate to hell?" He laughed.

"Please, Erik! Have mercy on Raoul at least! I'll stay with you as long as you want, so let him go!"

He chuckled as he looked at the Viscount who leaned on Christine for support, the man truly had the haunted appearance of an individual who has seen hell.

"Be grateful to this poor Erik, Christine." He murmured with a twisted smile. "I have allowed him to live, even though my mirrors have stolen his soul forever."

He forced them into his room and motioned for them to turn around. Once they did what they were told, he walked over to the pipe organ and pressed a hidden button that was carefully concealed from all but the most observant of eyes.

There was a massive groan, which caused Christine to jump and the Viscount to whimper weakly, as the coffin in the centre of the room begun to move.

"Turn." He commanded them. He watched them both turn around and pointed with his free hand to the spiral staircase that was hidden by the coffin. "Down." Was all he said.

...

He led them down the stairs and watched them intently. Christine supported the broken Viscount the best she could, both physically and mentally she tried to stop the wretched fool from crumbling. But she could not keep him together. Without his soul he was broken. All that was left was to break the Viscount's body into dust.

He nudged the Viscount with the gun and chuckled as the other man sobbed like a small child, he was annoyed when Christine looked at him and said in a stern voice. "Don't do that, Erik!"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "My dear Christine. You are in no position to tell me what to do." A smile curled on his lips and he nudged the Viscount harder and laughed as the Viscount wailed in speechless terror.

"Erik, stop it!" Christine shouted at him.

His face went blank, he spoke slowly. "You..Would dare raise your voice to me, Christine?" He pointed the gun away from the Viscount and levelled it at Christine, her eyes widened in shock. For a moment the two stared at each other until he spoke.

"You are trying my patience, my love." He said in a flat tone.

Christine's whole body shook and without another word, she helped the Viscount down the stairs and towards the door that stood in front of them.

For a brief second everything swam and the dizziness threatened to overwhelm him, but he kept his balance and followed them down. He clutched the gun tightly and his eyes never left the back of Christine's head.

...

When he ushered them into the chamber and turned on the lights, he watched as both their expressions turned a sickly gray as they beheld his master pieces. He gestured to various devices and spoke in a voice that boomed throughout the whole room. He spoke as though he was addressing a hidden audience.

"As you can see every single device in here a work of art, each one represents an aspect of my precious Mother. Behold, 'Mother's Restraint!' Behold 'Mother's Scowl!' Behold! Behold! Behold!"

He heard the Viscount whimper and Christine whisper.

"Oh..Oh God..It's a torture chamber.."

He lead them over towards their destination, the iron casket. "It goes by many names and different variations." He began. "The steel virgin, the Nuremberg Maiden and the iron maiden, to name a few." He stopped in front of it and pulled the lever, he watched as the door swung open and revealed a multitude of small spikes upon it.

"But I call her 'Mother's Embrace.'" He said with a smile.

...

He kept the gun pointed at them. "She is beautiful, is she not? Ah, Viscount.. I almost envy you, to be embraced by her is an honour! Now, you will go in there with a smile, Viscount. Otherwise..." He left the sentence unfinished, there was no need for elaboration.

Christine looked as though she was about to collapse, she let out a half hysterical sob. "Erik, please.. Don't d-do this.."

"Christine, you are no position to beg. I cannot believe that you have not realised that.." He shifted his attention from the Viscount and looked her in the eyes. "..This is all your fault." He said softly.

She began to shake her head. "Y-You're W-wrong, Erik.." her voice was no longer perfect, it's pitched was distorted by distress. She had gently let go of the Viscount's arm while she spoke. "A-all I did was treat you as a p-person.."

He laughed and shook his head. "All you did, Christine was become my greatest love..And my most reviled nemesis."

' _How cruel of you! How cruel of you to treat this poor Erik this way! How cruel of you! Even now, even now I cannot stop loving you! Even though I hate you, I still love you!'_ He mentally screamed, in his minds eye he saw not Christine standing before him but another woman. A much older woman of cruel and cold beauty. Her perfect lips moved and in his mind he heard her whisper.

'_Without your looks, who are you?'_

In answer he gritted his teeth and screamed. "I AM STILL YOUR SON!"

At that moment the Viscount lurched towards him, and Erik aimed the gun and pulled the trigger.

...

Everything was getting slightly blurry, he was aware of Christine's scream and the flashes of red. He dropped the gun as his vision cleared and saw Christine draped over the body of the Viscount. Her sobs caused her whole body to shake.

He was annoyed, he wanted the Viscount to suffer more before he killed him.

"It cannot be helped." He murmured out loud before he called to Christine. "Come away from him, Christine."

To his surprise, Christine stood up and walked over to him with her head lowered. He was expecting to drag her away from the cooling corpse.

He smiled and offered his hand. "Good girl, Christine. Now you can be mine and soon this incident will be even less then a memory. The Viscount was destroyed by The Ruin, as he deserves."

Christine mumbled something, her white dress dripped with the Viscount's blood. She stepped towards him and whispered in a scratchy tone that was a far cry from the voice he fell in love with.

"If.. You want to be loved so much, Erik. If you crave a woman's affection so much.."

She suddenly roared like a lioness. "THEN BE CONTENT WITH YOUR 'MOTHER'S EMBRACE!'"

She rushed at him and with all of her strength pushed him, and he was knocked off balance. As he stumbled backwards he looked into Christine's ocean kissed eyes and what he saw terrified him.

They blazed with Hellfire.

He felt his back hit the iron casket and heard the tell tale creek as the door quickly swung shut. As his vision filled with spikes, the voice whispered in his ear for the last time.

'_Now she will be...Your...My..Death.'_

The iron maiden swung closed, and for the first time in many years.. Erik felt the one thing he had longed for. The cold, cruel and final embrace of beloved Mother...

..And they were reunited.

"_As the best wine makes the sharpest vinegar, truest love can turn into truest nemesis._"-  
Nikhil Kushwaha

(The end)

**Nb: I hope that you all enjoyed the ending of 'Faces like Mine' and I really hope that you all had as much fun reading it was I had writing it! Thank you all for your continued support, views and comments during the course of writing this fanfiction! I cannot tell you how much it meant to me, and how shocked I am that so many people liked it. I especially liked reading people's thoughts on Erik, and how people viewed him =)**

**I will try not to ramble anymore.. So, I have some ideas for my next phantom of the opera story, but I am once again met with indecision.. So I have made another poll. Like the last one it will be up for two weeks and there is no need to vote if you do not wish to! =)**

**Also, to answer a guest reviewer's question.. You are indeed correct that my version was not born with his deformity, he had indeed acquired the deformity in an accident. Because of how he was treated afterwards he considered himself to be 'Ruined.' As he lost his insanity, he split his life into two parts. 'Before the Ruin,' and 'After the Ruin.' Hence why even the very word holds a great deal of significance for him. I am sorry for the ramble.. =) I hope this answers your question!**


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